Episode 25, VS7.5 - Ripples in Time
by Voyager Season 7.5
Summary: When things become routine...


Voyager Virtual Season 7.5  
  
Ripples in Time  
  
By Jamelia and Rocky  
  
Teaser  
"Science?" the captain asked.  
Although her mouth suddenly seemed dry, Ensign Samantha Wildman managed to   
respond, "All readings normal, Captain," without actually croaking the words out   
like a bullfrog on a lilypad.  
This was only the second time Sam had had the privilege of manning this station   
during the dozen previous slipstream jumps. She was nervously excited, yet   
thrilled and gratified for the opportunity. To experience moments like these,   
after all, was the reason she had become a Starfleet officer in the first place.   
Despite all that happened to her family and the crew of Voyager during the past   
eight years, she didn't regret her decision to become a part of this mission.   
This was her life.  
As the captain continued checking in with each station before they began, Sam   
looked around the bridge one more time. Megan Delaney stood at the adjunct   
Astrometrics station behind the captain, monitoring the ship's position as she   
and Tom Paris finished plotting the course towards the stars of home. She caught   
Joe Carey's eye at engineering and exchanged an encouraging grin with him.   
Commander Chakotay was alert but calm from his seat to the captain's left. Tom,   
his hands making small, last-minute adjustments to the helm, spared a quick wink   
in her direction  
Harry Kim was bouncing on the balls of his feet in barely-contained excitement.   
Finally, he said, "Boy, I can't wait to see Orion from my parents' back yard."  
"Be patient, Harry," Chakotay said. "We've got five more jumps to go before   
you'll be doing that. A lot could happen before then."  
"We are back in the Alpha Quadrant at least," Megan observed.  
"Perhaps, but I'm with the Commander," Captain Janeway said. "Until we're in   
orbit around Earth, I'm not going to anticipate which constellations might be   
whirling about my head."  
Commander Tuvok interrupted the conversation as he calmly relayed, "All   
departments report they are ready to begin, Captain."  
All bantering stopped. It was time.  
Captain Janeway ordered, "Take us into the slipstream, Mr. Paris."  
Sam felt adrenaline rush through her body. If all went well--as it had every   
other time that Voyager had used the new slipstream drive--in just a mere 120   
seconds from now, they would be several thousand light years closer to Earth.  
While keeping a watchful eye on her instruments, Sam's eyes strayed to the main   
viewscreen several times, first as the slipstream 'tunnel' formed, and then at   
brief intervals to admire the sparkling web itself. This 'hole' in space was   
actually an optical illusion, formed as the light from the stars was   
simultaneously compressed, stretched, and woven together as Voyager literally   
slipped along the currents of space. The science wasn't precisely the same as   
that for transwarp conduits, but the effect was similar. They were falling   
through space, speeding towards Earth. Home.  
Joe's periodic reports from the engineering station, "All drive systems stable,"   
were reassuring. As they neared the two minute mark, Sam found herself breathing   
easier. Almost over now. Only four more jumps, and she might find herself   
wrapped in Gresgrendkrendrek's arms once again.  
She apparently wasn't the only one feeling more relaxed. Harry said breezily,   
"You know, I can just about taste my mom's steamed dumplings now."  
"Watch it, Harry," said Tom. "You don't want to jinx us, do you? I can still   
remember my heartburn after Neelix's last attempt at making your mom's dumpling   
reci--What was that?"  
Sam had felt it, too, a distinct "bump," like a ground car's wheels jounced by a   
pothole in the road. She had the fleeting sensation that the ship was slipping   
sideways instead of straight forward, despite the compensation of the inertial   
dampers. She glanced up at the viewscreen and noticed a rippling effect in the   
side of the 'tunnel.' Quickly, she accessed her instruments and noted a   
disturbing energy spike blossoming.  
Before she had a chance to open her mouth, however, the ship suddenly began to   
shake wildly. The slipstream tunnel on the viewscreen shattered into a thousand   
splinters of light. The stars of normal space momentarily become visible in the   
widening rifts. Then the viewscreen abruptly went blank.  
"Naomi!" Sam cried out instinctively, holding frantically onto her console. But   
it was to no avail--the ship pitched like an ocean liner in a storm. Down turned   
into up, as they were thrown into total blackness. Even the emergency lights on   
the bridge were out.  
ACT I  
The dull red alert signal was the only illumination for several seconds, until   
the emergency lights flickered back on.  
"Report!" Janeway called, as she watched the members of the bridge crew pick   
themselves up off the floor, dazed and shaken. Chakotay helped Sam Wildman to   
her feet, then rubbed his shoulder and winced as he scrambled back into his   
seat.  
The captain jabbed at the panel next to her. No response. Communications were   
down. "Are we still in the slipstream?"  
Paris ran his hands over the helm controls. "I can confirm we're not moving at   
all, if that's what you mean."  
"We've definitely exited slipstream, Captain," Kim responded from Ops.  
"'Definitely', Lieutenant? Have we got internal sensors?" Janeway said in   
disbelief.  
"No, ma'am."  
"Then how--"  
"The last readings I had before the--whatever it was--indicated we were about to   
exit. I remember thinking it was a little too soon, that we should have stayed   
in for another few seconds." Kim shook his head. "But there's no way of knowing   
for sure."  
"Not until we get some of these systems up," Chakotay agreed, pushing away his   
blank terminal in frustration. At the engineering station, Carey had gotten down   
on the floor and was working underneath his console.  
"There was a spike in the energy readings," Sam reported. "I remember thinking   
it looked like we were falling sideways, if such a thing were possible."  
"I had the same feeling," Megan said. "I've never seen anything like that   
before."  
"Maybe some type of overload in the system," Janeway mused. She went over to the   
Tactical station. Tuvok appeared to be getting some readings, if his look of   
concentration was anything to go by. "Tuvok? Any idea of what happened? Did we   
hit something, or were we fired upon?"  
"In slipstream?" Paris said incredulously, turning away from his nearly useless   
controls. "It's like riding a wave, arcing over normal space, while being   
carried along by the current. What's to hit?"  
"There's a lot we don't know about slipstream," Chakotay reminded him curtly.   
"There may be 'rocks and shoals' concealed in the current that we aren't aware   
of."  
"I concur," Tuvok said. "It does appear that we were 'thrown out' of the   
slipstream, prematurely or otherwise. Though it is highly unlikely we   
encountered any physical obstacles, or that we were fired upon. In the latter   
event, we would have detected the presence of another ship within the   
slipstream." His habitual frown deepened as his console flickered slightly. "Our   
current status, Captain, is that weapons and shields are down."  
"Consistent with the 'normal' situation upon leaving slipstream?" the captain   
said, though she already knew the answer.  
Tuvok said it anyway. "It is impossible to answer that without bringing some of   
the major systems back online first."  
Janeway's lips tightened. "Any word yet from Engineering?"  
"Negative, Captain."  
Within a few minutes however, communications began to be restored--sporadically.   
Janeway's expression didn't change as she heard the recital of damage sustained.   
Times like this she wondered if it wouldn't be simpler to just state what *was*   
operable.  
"So it's back to frantic repair mode, while we remain blind and almost   
toothless," Chakotay said softly .  
Janeway returned to her seat, and pushed an errant lock of hair out of her face.   
"Our first priority is getting those shields up."  
"Not the sensors, Captain?" Chakotay said in surprise.  
"I'd rather be safe until I'm able to look at my surroundings and see that   
they're benign after all," Janeway retorted. She punched her communication   
panel. "Engineering!"  
"Torres here," came the static-filled response at last.  
"B'Elanna, what happened?"  
"The drive was going fine," the chief engineer said. Despite the bad connection,   
her exasperation came through loud and clear. "Then some sort of 'hiccup'   
occurred."  
"What do you mean by that?" Janeway asked.  
"I can't really explain it," B'Elanna said. "All we know at this moment is that   
something must have happened to cause the slipstream 'wave' to begin to fold."  
"So we did exit prematurely," Janeway said. She glanced up at Harry, then at the   
engineering station where Carey was emerging from under the console. "Lieutenant   
Carey, do you concur?"  
"Yes, ma'am," Carey said, getting to his feet. He was their resident expert on   
slipstream, or the closest they had to one. "There's no question about that. We   
weren't due to exit into normal space for another 1.7 seconds." He exhaled   
sharply. "The question is why. We've done this a dozen times already and this   
never happened before."  
"Unfortunately, past successes are no guarantee of future ones," Janeway said   
grimly. "Let's see if we can come up with some answers."  
"Right after we get shields, sensors, weapons, life support and propulsion," put   
in Chakotay. He nodded to Carey, who promptly headed for the turbolift. He could   
do more for them in Engineering than on the bridge.  
"Life support is up now, Captain, and you should have thrusters as well,"   
B'Elanna said over the comm.  
"Warp drive?" Janeway asked, though she hardly dared hope.  
"We won't be going anywhere in a hurry, Captain," B'Elanna confirmed. "We're   
still venting plasma, a result of having blown out half a dozen of the EPS   
relays. I should be able to get you half impulse shortly. Maybe in another ten   
minutes or so."  
"All right. Do what you can, B'Elanna. But get those shields up ASAP." Unable to   
remain seated, Janeway walked over to the main viewscreen and stared at the dull   
opaque surface, as if she could will it to life.  
She didn't know how long she stood there before she heard the welcome report,   
"Sensors and shields online, Captain."  
"It's about time--" Janeway began and then she stumbled as the ship shuddered.   
"What the hell was that?"  
"A phaser blast," Tuvok responded. "A direct hit to the aft section of the ship,   
and a glancing hit portside. Possible hull breach on deck 8."  
"A breach? You said shields were online!"  
"The aft shields were not at full strength to begin with and collapsed almost   
immediately," Tuvok said. "However, we still have functioning shields in the   
front part of the ship." The ship shuddered again, though not as strongly as   
before.  
Janeway reacted immediately. "Helm! Come about!" She glanced at the main   
viewscreen. It was still blank. She swore under her breath, as she started for   
the upper level of the bridge. "Mr. Kim, I need to see what's going on."  
"I'm on it, Captain," Harry said, working frantically. "Hold on..."  
"Are we being targeted?" Chakotay asked. A logical question, as any enemy   
deliberately firing at them would doubtless be able to pinpoint the weaknesses   
of their shields and wreak more damage.  
"Negative," Tuvok replied. "I do not believe these shots are specifically aimed   
at us." The main viewscreen abruptly activated, revealing a ship roughly the   
size of Voyager, being pursued by three smaller vessels. Raiders, perhaps. "We   
appear to have stumbled into the midst of some sort of battle."  
"Tom, back us away from there, keeping our shielded areas facing forward,"   
Janeway ordered. Even as she spoke, twin phaser blasts lanced out from the   
raider closest to their quarry.  
Tuvok said, "The larger vessel does not appear to be well armed. Her shields are   
weakening."  
"I'm picking up a distress call, Captain," Harry reported.  
"Let's hear it," Janeway said.  
"To all Caephidian vessels--this is the Batina. We are under attack and require   
assistance. Our situation is grave. Please help us! We have women and children   
on board--" The message was cut off abruptly.  
"Their systems are failing," Tuvok said.  
Janeway bit her lip. At first glance, the Batina and her attackers were of an   
unfamiliar design. As always upon emerging from slipstream, they didn't know   
anything about the region of space they found themselves in, or the situation   
unfolding before them. But considering they had crossed over into the Alpha   
Quadrant on an earlier 'jump', it wasn't outside the realm of possibility that   
Starfleet vessels had penetrated this far.  
"Harry, can you tell me anything about them, any identifying characteristics   
about these people? Anything match with what's in our data banks?"  
"Sorry, Captain, their hull plating is too dense to get much detail, at least   
with our sensors at less than optimal strength. I'm reading approximately eighty   
life signs--they appear to be a reptilian species. But that's it."  
Janeway nodded absently, her mind on the next part of the equation. Aside from   
the glancing shots earlier, the raiders seemed to be ignoring Voyager. For now.   
"Weapons status, Mr. Tuvok?"  
"Phasers are still off line, but the photon torpedoes are operational."  
"Better than nothing," Chakotay said.  
"It'll do," Janeway agreed, "though I'd rather not get involved unless we have   
to--"  
Her words were cut off when one of the raiders wheeled about and let off a   
volley in their direction. "They're not taking any chances that we're going to   
remain neutral," Chakotay noted.  
"Doesn't look that way," the captain said. "Mr. Kim, open a channel. Alien   
vessel, this is the Federation starship Voyager. We are not a party to your   
dispute--" The raider fired at them once more.  
"That went over well," muttered Paris from the helm, as he tried to keep the   
shielded sections of the ship facing the enemy.  
Janeway didn't waste a glance in his direction. She leaned forward, her eyes   
intent on the screen. With weakened shields, waiting was not an option. "Mr.   
Tuvok, target the ship that's firing on us."  
"Aye, Captain." Tuvok looked up. "Direct hit. And it appears to have done a   
considerable amount of damage."  
It was with a certain amount of satisfaction that Janeway watched the other two   
raiders break off their attack and flee. But her satisfaction was tempered by   
the sight of the first raider firing at them again. "Tuvok--"  
A second torpedo arced out toward the raider. Janeway watched its progress.   
Suddenly, a brilliant flash lit up the screen. The raider was gone; a few bits   
of debris floated in space where it had been.  
Chakotay was on his feet. "Did our torpedo do that?"  
"Negative," replied Tuvok. "The raider exploded before our torpedo reached it."  
"A warp core breach caused by earlier damage?" Janeway wondered.  
"Either that, or perhaps the Batina was not as defenseless as we believed,"   
Tuvok said. He added, "We should know shortly. The Caephidian vessel is hailing   
us."  
***  
"This is Captain Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager. To whom am I   
speaking?"  
The Caephidian captain was female. Her reptilian heritage was clearly evident by   
the prominent skull ridge which rose upward and back from her forehead, as well   
as the narrow gold-colored eyes which appeared to have a faint film overlaid on   
their surface. She was clad in a close-fitting dark green uniform, and her skin,   
covered with fine scales, was of a single pale tone. "I am the Master of the   
ship Batina, conveyance of the Matriarch and the Royal Kin. I wish to thank you   
for your assistance in battle. We did not expect such actions from strangers."   
She paused. "Pardon my intrusiveness, but I am not familiar with your   
Federation."  
"We picked up your distress signal, Master..." Janeway said, her voice trailing   
off just enough to indicate she was waiting for a name to be supplied. When none   
was forthcoming, however, she went on, "You are correct--we are strangers in   
your region of space, and do not know anything about your conflict, but your   
vessel was under attack, and you said that there were women and children   
present."  
"The Matriarch herself is on board." The Master turned away abruptly to confer   
with one of her officers, also female.  
Janeway murmured to Chakotay, "Notice she hasn't told us her name, or the name   
of her leader."  
"Maybe we're supposed to know who the Matriarch is without asking, as she's   
clearly the most important figure in this area of space," suggested Chakotay.   
"Or perhaps the Caephidians attach a great deal of ceremonial importance to the   
exchange of names, and rely on the use of titles when dealing with outsiders.   
There's ample precedent for this among other cultures we've encountered."  
"Then they're probably shocked I've been so free and easy with volunteering my   
own name," Janeway said.  
"Could be," he whispered, then subsided as the Caephidian turned her attention   
to them again. She appeared to be somewhat flustered. Behind her, the activity   
level had increased and shouts could be heard.  
"Once more, I thank you, Captain of Voyager. Under other circumstances, the   
Matriarch would have wished to greet you personally as well, but at present we   
are experiencing some difficulties on board our vessel, which I regret demand my   
full attention."  
"Is there anything we can do to help?" Janeway asked. The Caephidians did appear   
to be under a great deal of stress.  
"It's nothing serious," the Caephidian said, although her expression belied her   
words. "During the battle we sustained damage to one of the main power   
generators in the Ovarium, and there is concern that some of the young may have   
been injured."  
"Are you still experiencing power fluctuations?" Janeway asked.  
"Yes, we are," admitted the Master.  
Janeway glanced at her bridge crew. "If you wish, I can send over an away team   
to assist."  
"We would not want to impose," began the Caephidian. She stopped and held a   
whispered conference with another officer. "Thank you, that would be most kind   
of you. Our Matriarch looks forward to thanking you as well."  
Janeway turned to Chakotay after the transmission ended. "Commander, put   
together an away team, some engineers as well as medical personnel."  
"Aye, Captain."  
"I'll be leading this one myself," she said, and caught his immediate look of   
disapproval.  
"Do you think that's wise, Captain?"  
"This is a First Contact situation, Commander," she reminded him. "I also got   
the distinct impression that the Caephidian Matriarch is particularly eager to   
speak with me." His expression didn't change. "There will be security along, of   
course." She leaned forward and continued in a lower voice, "And if it will make   
you feel better, you can come along as well to make sure I stay out of trouble."  
He rolled his eyes but made no further comment.  
Janeway stood and glanced around the bridge, mentally gauging the rate of   
repairs. "Well, as soon as the transporters are back on line--"  
"Captain!" Kim was staring at his console, his face suddenly ashen.  
"What is it?" she asked, concerned.  
"As more of the systems have come back up, I've been able to pinpoint our   
position." He took a deep breath. "From these readings, it looks like a lot more   
went wrong with the last jump than just getting thrown out of the slipstream   
prematurely."  
The captain waited, steeling herself for the bad news she knew was coming. "Go   
on, Harry."  
"We're back in the Delta Quadrant, Captain."  
***  
Voyager's away team materialized in the Caephidian transporter chamber. Janeway   
looked around warily, careful to hold her arms in a non-threatening pose. Three   
Caephidians stood facing them, but none of them made any move to speak. Janeway   
waited, her thoughts automatically going back to her own ship and the frantic   
spurt of activity that had been touched off by the news that they had somehow   
gone off course in the last slipstream jump. She shook her head slightly,   
forcing herself to concentrate on the First Contact situation she and her crew   
found themselves in now.  
Finally, one of the Caephidians stepped forward. Janeway was fairly certain this   
was the Batina's captain, or rather 'Master', who had spoken to them earlier.   
"Thank you for coming to our aid, Captain."  
"We're happy to do what we can, Master . . ." Janeway paused, to allow the   
Caephidian to identify herself in any way. Perhaps in person the aliens would be   
a little less guarded. The Master did not answer immediately, however; the wait   
was long enough for Janeway to wonder if she had offended her. "I'm sorry, but   
would I be transgressing the customs of your people if I were to ask your name?"  
"My given name is Crolay," the Master said, a little hesitantly.  
"I am Kathryn Janeway."  
"Yes, so you stated when we first hailed your vessel." Crolay inclined her head,   
as if in thought. "I believe our customs are somewhat different, as I seldom   
need to use my name at my current rank, except when I meet with masters of other   
vessels." She added hastily, "And you are clearly the Master of Voyager, so it   
is entirely proper for us to make use of the other's name. Your people freely   
use names regardless of rank, I assume."  
"Yes, that is true, but we often use ranks or titles instead of names." Janeway   
gestured to the other members of the away team. "Let me introduce you to my   
staff by all three, so you may use either, according to your preferences. This   
is my first officer, Commander Chakotay; my chief engineer, Lieutenant B'Elanna   
Torres; Lieutenant Susan Nicoletti of our engineering staff; Lieutenant Thomas   
Paris, our chief helmsman, who is here in his other capacity as primary field   
medic; Lieutenant Michael Ayala, our assistant chief of security; and Crewman   
Mark Gennaro, also part of our security department. Lieutenant Paris, Lieutenant   
Ayala and Crewman Gennaro all have a great deal of experience assisting in   
ship's systems, however, and they are available to assist your engineering staff   
as well."  
Chakotay stepped forward with his hand held out in greeting, and was met with a   
stunned silence.  
Crolay looked away as if embarrassed. "I'm sure they are quite talented in their   
own way, Captain, but I'm sure your primary engineering staff is more than   
sufficient. Please, Chief Engineer, Engineer, will you follow my Master Engineer   
. . . Hesaway . . . She will lead you to our power generation systems."  
The Master Engineer nodded stiffly and gestured with her arm for B'Elanna and   
Susan to follow. Her voice was somewhat higher pitched than the master's. "We   
are working on our main power supply and have that well in hand. The junctions   
to the Ovarium were destroyed, however. We have temporarily stabilized the   
nesting cylinders by providing them with an emergency energy nodule, Chief   
Engineer, but we need to reconstruct the main system to the Ovarium before the   
emergency power runs out. We don't have much time, and we lack the necessary   
parts to repair the system before we can get help from other ships in this area.   
Most do not carry what we need."  
"We know all about scrounging for parts! Let me see what you need. We may be   
able to replicate some of the equipment on our ship . . ." B'Elanna and Susan   
Nicoletti followed the Caephidian Master Engineer through a tall, narrow door   
that resembled a porthole.  
As the voices of the engineers faded away, the Caephidian Master said, "Please,   
Captain, come with me. Our Matriarch wishes to meet with you personally, to   
thank you for your assistance. "  
"Are you sure you don't want any help from my other staff? My field medic, Tom   
Paris, could scan your eggs to make sure none have been damaged in any way. He .   
. ."  
The Caephidian Master tittered, in what Janeway took to be laughter. "There is   
no need for that, Captain. You may bring your males with you as your guard of   
honor, of course. It is only your due."  
Janeway looked guiltily at her "males." She hadn't brought them along as some   
sort of status symbol! Chakotay's lips were tight together and his jaw was set,   
eyes staring straight ahead, in the expression he had whenever he was extremely   
unhappy about developments. Ayala and Gennaro were alert but unsmiling, with the   
classic "security guard" mask on their faces. The only one who seemed to think   
it was at all amusing was Tom, who raised one eyebrow in a manner most   
reminiscent of Tuvok but with a most un-Vulcan crooked grin across his face.  
***  
Initially Tom was alert, as he always was in a First Contact situation. The   
Caephidians seemed genuinely eager for their help. Once B'Elanna and Sue had   
left to assist in engineering, the rest of the away team was taken to meet the   
Matriarch. Tom wanted to help the Caephidians more directly, but if they wanted   
him to be a member of Janeway's "male" honor guard, then he would be satisfied   
with that role. He wasn't particularly fond of diplomatic missions, but he could   
do them if he had to.  
They followed Caephidian Master, who was apparently the captain of the Batina   
and equivalent to Janeway in rank, through a series of passageways. The   
Caephidian's technology seemed fairly advanced. Once, the Caephidian stopped the   
group before a doorway and bowed deeply and reverently before taking them into   
the chamber. The area looked much like one of Voyager's cargo bays, down to the   
containers it held; however, the temperature and humidity levels were   
significantly higher than they had been elsewhere on the vessel. Tom looked more   
closely as they passed through and realized that the containers looked like   
stasis chambers, each containing one large ovoid. This must be the Ovarium, with   
Caephidian eggs in incubators--a reasonable development for an advanced,   
space-traveling race that reproduced by laying eggs, Tom thought. It freed the   
mothers from having to sit on a nest during the gestation period. He'd never   
really thought much about how such things were done before, but now that he was   
a father, he found the subject interested him.  
It also helped Tom relax. 'No way they're going to attack us when they've got   
their kids around here,' Tom thought. 'Not when B'Elanna and Sue are helping   
repair their incubators.' He'd felt, from the beginning, that the Caephidians   
were exactly what they had said they were--a group of females and their   
offspring, and no threat to Voyager's crew. Now he was sure of it.  
Tom itched to use his medical tricorder and get some basic metabolic data about   
the Caephidians. Over the years Voyager had come across surprisingly few   
reptilian-like species, and he couldn't help wondering if they were somehow   
related to the Voth. There was a basic physical similarity at first glance,   
though the Capehidian epidermis was covered with much finer scales, all of a   
single pale tone. But it would be bad form to do anything of that sort before   
receiving permission. Chakotay had spent quite a bit of time with the Voth, he   
remembered now, with that scientist--Gegen was his name. He wondered if Gegen   
had told Chakotay much about the Voth and their methods of reproduction. Somehow   
he'd never had the chance to find out. He made a mental note to ask Chakotay   
later, or better yet, ask B'Elanna if she could find out for him.  
Yes, that was a much better plan, he decided. While Tom was getting along with   
Chakotay much better lately, B'Elanna was still much closer to the first   
officer. And besides, whenever Tom brought up the subject of reproduction with   
his wife, somehow they seemed to find a way to experience a little activity   
related to reproduction themselves afterwards. He smiled a little to himself at   
the thought.  
And that was why Tom was smirking noticeably as their group moved around a bank   
of equipment and encountered a regally-dressed figure, standing in an alcove,   
and obviously waiting for them.  
"Our Matriarch, and Keeper of the Life Force of the Caephidian People," the   
Master intoned, and dropped to one knee. Janeway and the rest of the crew   
immediately followed suit. "This is the Captain of Voyager."  
Janeway rose gracefully and made a slight bow. "I am honored, Matriarch."  
"The honor is ours, Captain," the Matriarch said. Her voice was low and husky   
and carried an unmistakable ring of authority. No attempt was made at   
introducing the Voyager males, and indeed it appeared as though the Matriarch   
did not even notice them. However, before drawing the captain to one side so   
they might continue their conversation in relative privacy, the Matriarch's eyes   
rested unblinkingly on Tom for a moment.  
'Great, Paris. A wonderful first impression, once again,' he mused dejectedly.  
It took him several minutes to realize that Chakotay, Ayala, and Gennaro were   
also being totally ignored by everyone except two towering figures standing on   
either side of the alcove. They carried wicked-looking blades on staffs that   
were even taller than they were. They were in full body armor; even their faces   
were almost completely hidden by their helmets. A single long narrow slit   
bisected the face place, through which only a hint of the eyes could be seen.   
But Tom was sure that they were staring at him.  
He felt much less relaxed after that.  
***  
"All right, I think we're ready to test it," B'Elanna said, with one more turn   
of her hyperspanner.  
"Yes, Chief Engineer. I believe we are," the Master Engineer agreed. She stepped   
to a nearby control panel, which lit up at the first touch of her digits.   
B'Elanna felt, rather than heard, the faint hum of power returning to the   
console. Ten sets of eyes--one Klingon/human, one human, and eight   
Caephidian--turned to the readout screen above the console which had been   
identified as the Ovarium's main control panel. "Shutting off emergency energy   
nodules." The indicator arrows for the ten occupied cylinders descended.   
"Reconnecting main power to the Ovarium cylinders."  
All ten arrows began a steady rise, stopping well within the strip which marked   
acceptable tolerances. The Caephidians murmured in approval. B'Elanna said,   
"Yes!" and gave a thumbs up sign to Nicoletti.  
The Master Engineer's reaction was not one of relief but of intent study of the   
readouts. Finally, she reacted, heaving out a deep breath in what must surely be   
a big sigh of relief. "Yes, we have been successful. Your 'jury-rigging' seems   
to be working well, Chief Engineer, Assistant Engineer. We cannot express how   
much this means to us. Thank you."  
"You're very welcome, Hesaway . . . I mean, Master Engineer . . . "  
The Caephidian bobbed her head in what B'Elanna was beginning to think was a way   
of showing amusement. "You may call me by name, if I may call you by yours . . .   
B'Elanna Torress."  
"Of course you may!" B'Elanna replied gratefully, sensing that she had been   
given a gift by the Caephidian Master Engineer. "We've had lots of practice with   
jury-rigging the past eight years."  
"Have you? What is the significance of the past eight years?"  
"Eight years ago, we were transported from one side of the galaxy to the other.   
We've been trying to get home ever since."  
"Ah, I see! That must have been very difficult for you."  
"Yes, it has, although it's had its compensations," B'Elanna said, gathering up   
the last of her tools and placing them in her work bag.  
Sue chuckled. "I'll say. It took you and Tom almost seven years to finally get   
together when we were taking bets about it only a few months after we got here!"  
" 'Get together?' " Hesaway asked.  
"Get married. Mated. However you want to call it. Lieutenant Paris, the field   
medic who came over here with us, is my mate." B'Elanna and Sue waved their   
farewells to the Caephidian engineering crew as they followed the Master   
Engineer out of engineering.  
"Ah. Now I see! Parress. Torress. With your people, the mate takes the ending of   
the female's name, instead of the beginning, as it is for us" Hesaway indicated   
the passageway they were to take and added, "So that is why Chakotay and Janeway   
are named as they are."  
B'Elanna and Sue both laughed at that. "Not quite. Torres and Paris are our   
original names. We gave our daughter the name Miral Torres Paris, though, so her   
full name has both of ours. And Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay . . ."   
B'Elanna hesitated. How could she explain their relationship in terms  
the Caephidians would understand? She decided to change the subject. "So you   
have a mate, Hesaway? And his name begins the way yours does?"  
"Yes . . . it did." The master engineer stopped walking for a moment and bowed   
her head. "My mate Hesavek is dead. He was part of Tirgan's war crew. Tirgan was   
our Matriarch's Consort. His trusted Second turned upon them and destroyed their   
vessel." She began to walk again, almost spitting out her next words. "Nareb!   
That traitor! He's the one who attacked us, too; we're all sure of it! May he   
become the hunted one, slain for his treachery by our loyal warriors!"  
B'Elanna grimaced. Politics and dead mates. Terrible way to change the subject.  
Hesaway apparently did not notice, however. "That was why the Batina was called   
back to the Homeworld. We had planned to remain on our holiday until after the   
babies are hatched, but it no longer seemed to be safe to be away. Almost all of   
the young ones in the Ovarium are related to our Matriarch. One of them is hers,   
in fact. We are all hoping she has a daughter this time, since she has lost   
Tirgan. And one of the eggs is mine--my first."  
"I'm very glad your child is safe, Hesaway. Especially under the circumstances.   
When will your baby be born . . . hatched . . . ?"  
"My child should emerge from her shell about twenty minim from now. It has been   
such a long wait!" The Caephidian raised her head and became more erect as she   
spoke of her child.  
"How long has it been?" B'Elanna asked, sensing that Hesaway was struggling with   
a powerful emotion, either fear or pride or--anticipation.  
"Half a kodesh." The Universal Translator indicated that a kodesh was roughly   
equivalent to a Terran year.  
"That short! I wish my Miral had decided to be born in half a year!" B'Elanna   
exclaimed. Sue clapped her hand on B'Elanna's shoulder sympathetically as the   
chief engineer groaned, "I carried Miral for a full nine months."  
"And inside your body, too?" asked Hesaway. At B'Elanna's nod, she said, "How   
uncomfortable that must be! I carried my egg inside me for 30 minim, but it   
seemed to be forever!"  
"Seemed like forever to me, too!" B'Elanna said. "But now she's here, and   
speaking of that, I need to get back to her."  
"Of course. Here we are now, at the Ovarium. The Matriarch should still be here.   
There she is. First, though, look in this cylinder. Here is my daughter."  
Despite the importance of the personage awaiting them, B'Elanna and Sue both   
took the hint and cooed over the egg--so perfectly shaped! One of the most   
beautiful eggs they had ever seen, and would undoubtedly produce an exceptional   
Caephidian child . . . one of the most perfect ever born.  
***  
Tom was extremely glad to see his wife looking so cheerful when the away team   
gathered together again, and even happier since her reappearance meant they   
would be returning to Voyager. Aside from the fact that there was plenty for all   
of them to do back on their own ship, it had been a waste of time, not to   
mention an uncomfortable two hours, standing around as the captain's "honor   
guard" while she chatted with the Matriarch and the Master of the Vessel. Or   
should that be Mistress of the Vessel? Tom wondered if the Universal Translator   
had a glitch in it. Whatever. His shift should be long over by the time they got   
back, and Tom would be glad to get home to his little girl.  
But first, the requisite diplomatic send off. Tom straightened up, brightening   
only when B'Elanna stepped next to him and gave him a surreptitious touch of the   
hand in greeting. At least she seemed to have had a productive time! The   
Master/Mistress Engineer was reporting to the Matriarch and the Master/Mistress   
of the vessel that the eggs in the Ovarium were all safe. The Batina was   
repaired well enough to get back home. Mission accomplished . . . now, to get   
back to Voyager, figure out what went wrong with the slipstream to put them so   
far off course, and get back to . . .  
"Captain Janeway, the Ovarium is again functioning as it should, thanks to your   
invaluable assistance. We cannot fully express how grateful we are for all you   
have done, but please, let us make a token gesture. Once we arrive at our   
Homeworld, we shall hold a Feast of Gratitude for our deliverance. Please accept   
our invitation to attend."  
"We would not wish to impose, Matriarch," Janeway said, clearly trying to find a   
polite way to refuse. "We really must resume our journey, particularly as we   
have recently deviated from our course."  
"Perhaps my own staff can provide you with assistance on that endeavor. Please,   
Captain. Grant us this favor, as one mother to another."  
Tom shot an interested look at the captain. Mother? Were the Caephidians under   
the impression that they were all Janeway's children?  
"Well," the captain hesitated, then acquiesced. "Perhaps that would be a good   
idea after all, especially if we can replenish some supplies. My senior staff   
and I would be honored to attend your 'Feast of Gratitude.'"  
"Good. We will expect you, your chief engineer, . . . and do you have other   
mothers on board your ship we could also honor at our feast?"  
"Yes, one of our scientists is a mother as well," Janeway said. "She has a   
daughter who is already training to become an officer."  
"Excellent."  
"Guess I've got baby sitting duty that night," Tom offered, seeing the sour face   
B'Elanna pulled at the unwelcome news she could expect to be torn away from her   
engines again--and for a diplomatic function of all things.  
"Guess you're right about that, Flyboy," B'Elanna said ruefully.  
Tom looked up and saw the Caephidians staring at him, probably that he'd had the   
effrontery to talk in front of the Matriarch. He began to sweat.  
"Babysitting?" the Master Engineer said, turning to B'Elanna.  
"Child care," B'Elanna said. "Since I will be at the feast, my mate will stay   
with our daughter." Something compelled her to add, "He often helps take care of   
her--in fact, he's really wonderful with her."  
The Caephidians all tittered, but the Matriarch addressed Captain Janeway again.   
"Ah, just as you explained to me how your first mate stayed behind to care for   
your daughter Molly when your current mission began, as she was with child."  
'The Captain's daughter?' Tom almost blurted out. 'Molly? Say, wasn't that the   
name of the captain's dog--' With a major effort he clamped his jaws together   
and resolved not to say a word until he was safely back on board Voyager. He   
didn't dare look at Chakotay or anyone else.  
The Matriarch was speaking once more. "Well, this has been a most interesting   
meeting. I look forward to the Feast, Captain. We will have much to discuss."  
Tom was never so glad to see an away team mission end in his entire life.  
***  
"The Voyagers have departed, your Majesty." Hesaway bowed low as she rejoined   
the Matriarch and her superior, the Master of the Batina, who were still in the   
alcove off the Ovarium, conversing in low tones. "Their transport technology   
appears quite sophisticated."  
"More advanced than our own technology?" the Master asked.  
"No, I would not say that, but they seem quite advanced and resourceful.   
B'Elanna . . . their chief engineer . . . told me they have been cut off from   
their home planet for eight years and have had to 'make do,' as she said, to   
repair their ship with what they can find."  
The Matriarch nodded. "Their Captain Janeway told me that, too. They are not at   
all like the typical mammalian species. Their males care for infants! Amazing!"  
"Perhaps not all of them do. This Parress may be unusual," the Batina's Master   
said.  
"Not according to Captain Janeway," the Matriarch observed. "Their males often   
participate in the rearing of the young, even daughters, unlike our own. Many   
devote their lives to science, medicine, and government. Obviously, they are   
less interested in following the ways of war or the hunt than in being   
productive members of society. Not that I would want them to come to a banquet,   
or run the government in any way but as its defenders!"  
"Do you think we can trust them?" the Master asked.  
"More than we can Nareb!" Hesaway retorted sharply.  
"Yes, I do think we can trust them--to a point. We need to know more about them   
before we can be sure of it, however."  
"Matriarch, shall we send a message to the Homeworld? We could ask all who are   
within reach of our Communications Network what they know of these people.   
Surely they passed some of our vessels on their path here," the Master   
suggested.  
Before the Matriarch could reply, however, a small figure ran out of the   
corridor and hurled itself in her direction. A much taller being thundered into   
the alcove in hot pursuit, but was unable to stop the smaller one from slamming   
into the Matriarch.  
"I'm so sorry, my lady," the woman gasped. "I couldn't keep him away any   
longer!"  
Tirgana, Matriarch of the Caephidians and Keeper of the Life Force, wrapped the   
small one into her arms. "It's all right, Nepay. I didn't want to be away from   
him any longer, either." Turning her attention to her son, she spoke more   
sternly, "Nan! You are very naughty to make your tutor so out of breath from   
running after you like that."  
"I wanted to see the mammals! I can *smell* them, Mama. Are they still here?"  
The adults tittered. "No, Nan, they have gone back to their ship," Tirgana said   
with a slightly admonishing shake of her head.  
"Will they come back so I can see them?"  
"We shall see. They are following us to the Homeworld."  
The Master of the Vessel and her Master Engineer exchanged glances. The voice of   
their matriarch had assumed an intimate tone, as it did whenever she spoke with   
her youngster. "Matriarch, we have duties we must attend," the Master said.  
"Of course. Go. Please send for word about the strangers, as we discussed."  
"We shall do so," The Master said. Bowing respectfully, the two officers from   
the Batina took their leave.  
"You may leave us now also, Nepay," the Matriarch said to the new arrival, who   
had been Tirgana's childhood tutor and now served her son in the same capacity.   
"I will take care of my son now that the other-worlders are no longer here to   
disturb us."  
"Very good, my lady," the elder Caephidian said, backing out of the alcove and   
leaving mother and son alone.  
When they were alone, Tirgana asked, "Would you like to visit with your future   
sister or brother for a little while, Nan?"  
He nodded vigorously, as only the supple young ones could, and followed his   
mother to an incubator set off to the side in the Ovarium.  
"Is our egg safe now?" Nan asked in a hushed voice.  
"Yes, the visitors from Voyager helped make it safe."  
"What are they like, Mama? Do they have the same number of eyes and arms as we   
do? Or do they have many, like the Dakrila?" Those had been the last alien   
species he had encountered.  
"Two eyes, two arms, two legs. Very much like us in some ways, but their skin is   
smooth, the males as well as the females. And their faces changed as they spoke.   
The tissues must be very soft."  
"And did they have hair?" The little boy's eyes widened at the thought.  
"Some, on their heads, and a little on their brows."  
"It must tickle them!"  
"It might. I didn't ask."  
"I wish I could ask them."  
"They might consider that a rude question, Nan. But I have an idea--they will be   
coming to our Feast of Gratitude. Would you like to come to the feast, too? And   
see them for yourself?"  
"Oh, yes, Mama, please!"  
"It will be a special adult's dinner. You will have to be very good and not make   
a commotion if you want to stay for the whole meal."  
"I'll be very good--good enough to make Papa proud of me."  
The Matriarch said nothing. The words would not come through her suddenly   
constricted throat.  
Nan stiffened and said, "I forgot. Papa can't be proud of me any more."  
"He is still proud of you, Nan," Tirgana whispered. "He always will be, just as   
he will always love you, but he cannot come and tell you anymore."  
The young one fidgeted a moment as he looked in the view panel of the incubator.   
Plaintively, he asked, "Mama, are you sure Papa will not come to see me ever   
again?"  
The mother found her voice. "No, Nan, he cannot. He has been killed in battle.   
He would if he could. He was a very special father."  
"I know. He always played with me, like I was a big person, not a little one."  
"Yes, he did, didn't he?" Tirgana touched her son on the shoulder gently. "You   
know, the mate of one of Captain Janeway's officers came here. He plays with his   
little daughter, too, I understand." She stroked the bright blue splash of   
scales on her son's temple as he rubbed his face against her waist. "His eyes   
are almost as blue as your mark."  
"I wish I could see them."  
"We shall see. Now, shall I read you a story before you have your dinner?"  
"Yes, Mama, please."  
The Matriarch put her arms around her first-born hatchling and gave him a quick   
hug. After another appreciative look at the egg which was precious to them both,   
the two Caephidians--one large, one small--walked slowly away from the gently   
humming incubator. Mother and son were both silent, minds full of  
memories of the absent Tirgan, Consort of the Matriarch. He would never return   
to his mate or surreptitiously care for his first-born hatchling, of whom he had   
truly been extremely proud.  
Tirgana, in her persona of Matriarch, would never be able to find a punishment   
harsh enough for the one who had slain her consort. She could not even imagine   
one as severe as Nareb deserved. If he ever came into her hands, however, she   
would do her best to find one-- even if it meant personally tearing him apart,   
limb from limb, with her own clawed digits.  
***  
The senior staff was assembled in the briefing room. Although the department   
heads would normally have met at that hour, the agenda of this meeting was   
entirely concerned with Voyager's current situation. Astrometrics had already   
given a preliminary report on the region, making note of some interesting   
celestial phenomena in the area, including a number of nascent singularities.  
"...all systems are now fully operational, Captain, including the warp drive,"   
Kim said, finishing up the report on ship's operations.  
Janeway nodded. "Status of weapons and shields?"  
"Back to maximum capability," Tuvok answered. "After further review, I believe   
that our lack of phasers-- as well as the relative weakness of the shields--when   
we first emerged from slipstream was not due to any unusual occurrence, but   
rather the 'typical' effect of slipstream and its drain on our power systems."  
"But we'd found a way to work around that," objected Chakotay. "After the first   
few jumps, we hadn't been emerging completely blind and defenseless."  
"That was more due to some creative jury-rigging on our part, as opposed to any   
permanent solution," the chief engineer said immediately. "Considering how many   
EPS relays we blew coming out of the wave, it's not surprising that our 'fix'   
didn't hold up."  
"Still, the major systems came back on-line pretty quickly," the captain noted.   
"Which was extremely fortuitous." Thinking of the battle they'd stumbled on, she   
turned to her chief of security once more. "Tuvok, do you have anything else to   
add?"  
"I have detected no further signs of the raiders in the last two days, Captain.   
They appear to have left the vicinity completely. And as we have journeyed   
closer to the Caephidian homeworld together with the Batina, other vessels have   
arrived and now act as escort. It is highly unlikely we will witness any more   
attacks in the immediate future." He shifted slightly in his seat. "I would like   
to take this opportunity, Captain, to remind you of the risks inherent in our   
current situation, from a political point of view. Though it was not our intent   
to become involved in any internal conflict, the fact remains that we have taken   
military actions on behalf of the Caephidian Matriarch, and as such our   
neutrality may be considered suspect."  
"But those actions were in our own self-defense," said Paris. "That raider fired   
on us first."  
"Nonetheless, Mr. Paris," Tuvok said, "the end result is the same."  
"I'm aware of the potential difficulty, Mr. Tuvok," the captain replied evenly.   
"However, I don't plan on sticking around long enough for that to be a lasting   
concern. We're heading for the Caephidian homeworld, yes, to attend the   
Matriarch's feast of gratitude. At the same time, I hope to have the opportunity   
to conduct some trade and otherwise replenish our supplies, which is always a   
primary concern." Particularly since their journey had just gotten longer, she   
added silently. "And then we'll be on our way."  
As if reading her mind, Chakotay said, "The real issue here, of course, is the   
slipstream. Any theories on what went wrong?"  
Torres shook her head, clearly not happy. "Unfortunately, we're no closer to   
finding any answers." She got up and went to the display on the wall. "This   
represents the situation in a typical jump," she said, manipulating the images   
to match her words. "Using slipstream is like catching a wave and riding it to   
shore as opposed to having to swim the whole way through. The 'wave' forms a   
passageway of sorts  
around the ship as it's going through--the slipstream conduit--which in theory   
lasts for as long as we generate the effect. In the past, the variances became   
unstable after more than just a few minutes, due to the extreme power drain.   
Which is why we've limited our attempts to two minutes."  
"But this time, something caused us to be thrown out of the slipstream   
prematurely," Paris said.  
"Or caused the slipstream itself to collapse," noted Janeway.  
Torres exchanged glances with the captain. "That seems to be the more likely   
theory," she said, "though it's odd that it should have occurred just before we   
were planning on exiting anyway."  
"Could it have been related to our preparing to exit?" Chakotay asked.  
"No," Torres said emphatically. "I don't see how." She prepared to run the   
simulation again. The image of a ship appeared on the crest of a wave once more.   
"Here's the ship, proceeding at normal velocities within the slipstream." The   
sides of the ship began to glow. "We have the build-up of malleotron particles   
on the hull, as usual, which slough off upon our exit into normal space. There   
is nothing out of the ordinary, nothing we haven't seen occur a dozen times   
before." She sighed in frustration. "I've run the power relays, correlating the   
variance changes with each successive 0.2 seconds of the entire 118 seconds we   
spent in the slipstream for this last jump. And each time I come up with   
nothing. No explanation as to what went wrong."  
Janeway's frown of concentration matched that of her chief engineer. "Another   
question is, why are we back in the Delta Quadrant? Could it be related to the   
collapse of the slipstream wave, that we were somehow 'thrown' in the wrong   
direction?"  
Once more, B'Elanna shook her head. "I don't know--yet. We're working on that.   
So far we have some theories, but until we run a few more diagnostics, we won't   
know for sure." She returned to her seat. "But at least there's one consolation,   
Captain. We haven't lost too much ground; we've only backtracked about 5,000   
light years. Easy enough to make up--once we have the slipstream working   
properly again."  
"And in the meantime, we may be able to plot a slightly different course which   
will help compensate as well," put in Megan Delaney. "If we alter our   
trajectory, cutting through a larger swath of the Beta Quadrant than we did   
previously, we also ought to shave another light year off the total. I've   
started some simulations and have all the Astrometrics personnel working on   
this. At the same time, we ought to be able to get a more accurate fix on our   
current position."  
"Which will be helpful from Starfleet's end as well," the captain said   
approvingly. "Any progress on reestablishing the FTP communication, by the way?"  
Kim answered, "Not yet, Captain. For some reason, we're having trouble getting a   
fix. It could be the distance is too great."  
Considering they hadn't been able to establish the real-time link to Starfleet   
during their previous time in the Delta Quadrant, this made sense, Janeway   
acknowledged. "See if you can make any progress there, Mr. Kim."  
"I'll be working with Icheb and Naomi in Astrometrics next shift, Captain," he   
said.  
Janeway rose to her feet. "Then it looks like we've got all the bases covered.   
Dismissed." As B'Elanna turned to go, Janeway touched her arm. "I know you're   
giving this your best efforts," she said quietly. "And I want you to know, I   
have every confidence in you."  
B'Elanna gave her a somewhat haggard smile. "Thank you, Captain. I appreciate   
it."  
ACT 2  
Janeway tugged on the bottom of her formal dress jacket and frowned one last   
time at her reflection. "I've always hated these things," she grumbled, crossing   
from the bedroom into the main living area of her quarters. "Whoever designed   
these dress uniforms seems to have been going for maximum discomfort *and*   
ugliness at the same time. And managed to get both exactly right. Or wrong, as   
the case may be."  
Chakotay looked up from the couch where he was reading a PADD. "You could always   
switch uniforms, you know." He smiled briefly. "I think that's what Starfleet   
was hinting when they sent the specs for the new duty uniforms recently."  
"New to us," Janeway corrected him automatically. "They were adopted by all   
personnel two years after we were 'lost' in the Delta Quadrant." She paused for   
a moment as she attached the last pip to her collar. "Starfleet didn't exactly   
order us to switch. In fact, I think they'd be very disappointed if we showed up   
on their doorstep clad in the latest 'Fleet styles, instead of the uniforms that   
were standard back when we first disappeared. They want us to look the part of a   
ship cut off from the rest of the Federation, thousands of light years from   
home."  
Chakotay shrugged non-committaly. "Maybe. But then why waste the bandwidth   
sending us the specs?"  
"So after the formal presentation and welcome home of the 'lost sheep', we can   
then change back into current officers in a hurry." She attempted a lighter   
tone. "Hope that's an omen for our readjustment."  
He didn't answer.  
"Besides," she persisted. "Have you gotten a really close look at those new   
uniforms?"  
"The gray and black looks rather nice, I thought."  
"The regular uniforms are all right," she conceded. "At least for the men.   
Haven't you noticed, though, that the women's tunics look a little snug on top?"  
He did look up then. "Got a problem with that?" he said teasingly.  
"I know *you* don't," she shot back. "But the new versions of the dress uniform?   
Absolutely awful. It looks like something a waiter would wear. A waiter for a   
second-class establishment."  
"Then you shouldn't complain about having to wear the current one," he said, his   
attention back on his PADD once more.  
"I suppose you're right," she said. She leaned over his shoulder. "What's that   
you're reading?"  
"The latest fuel consumption reports."  
"Sounds like fun."  
"Maybe it's not the most fascinating subject, but it is important." He flashed   
her a smile. "Someone's got to work around here, you know."  
"What, you don't think attending the Matriarch's feast is work?" she said in   
mock outrage.  
"It is." His voice had lost its former lightness.  
"Then?" She gave him a searching glance as she seated herself beside him. "If I   
didn't know any better, I'd think you were upset you couldn't attend."  
"I'm not upset," he said, turning slightly away from her.  
"Annoyed, then."  
"I'm not annoyed." He sighed. "Look, I know we have to respect the cultural and   
societal mores of the different species that we encounter, and it's clear that   
the Caephidians have a strong matriarchal society. The males aren't valued too   
highly, apparently, other than as breeders."  
Her head came up sharply at the word 'breeders.' She wondered if he was going to   
get in another dig about her 'daughter Molly'; he'd already teased her quite a   
bit after the away team had returned from the Batina. "And war leaders,   
apparently," she reminded him, hoping to change the subject.  
"Great. As Tom Paris said, we can make love, as well as war."  
"I'm not disputing your prowess in either department, my angry warrior," she   
said with a smile, as she traced his features lightly with her hand. She   
stopped. "Chakotay, what is it? This isn't like you."  
"What's not like me?" he said, his eyes once more on his PADD.  
She reached out and took it from him. "This moodiness."  
"I'm not moody." He tried to reclaim the PADD, but she held it away. "Don't you   
think you should be going, Captain? You don't want to keep the rest of the   
landing party waiting in the transporter room."  
"A few more minutes isn't going to make a difference." She watched as he slid   
off the couch and walked over to the replicator. "I mean it, Chakotay, if it   
were anyone else acting this way, I'd say you were brooding."  
"I'm not brooding," he said, calling up a cup of tea. "Just...thinking."  
"About?"  
"Various things," he said evasively.  
She waited. Her patience was rewarded when, after a few moments, he sat down   
next to her again with another sigh. "As we get closer and closer to home, I   
can't help but wonder what kind of reception we're going to get. The Maquis, I   
mean."  
She caught his gaze in her own and held it. "I've said it before, and I'll say   
it again, I will not allow Starfleet to think for even a moment that they can   
treat any member of my crew differently than the others."  
"Even your first officer?"  
"Especially my first officer."  
"Why?" he challenged. "Because I'm your lover?"  
"Because you're a damn good officer who's been instrumental in the survival of   
this ship over the past seven plus years, that's why." She glared at him. "What   
I don't understand is why you would even think for a moment that our personal   
relationship has anything to do with it."  
"I'm just wondering what's going to happen, where I'll fit in, once we get   
back." He forestalled her objection. "Even if the Federation does decide to   
issue a general pardon to the Maquis."  
"I'm sure you could find a suitable position in Starfleet," she said, adding   
swiftly, "Even without my help."  
"Thanks for the vote of confidence." He put his drink down on the coffee table,   
without having tasted it. "Kathryn, did it ever occur to you that I might not   
want to stay in Starfleet, even if they'll have me?"  
She gaped at him, even as she wondered why she found this so surprising. "I know   
that your past association with the 'Fleet wasn't always smooth, and that your   
parting was less than amicable--"  
"I resigned my commission because I could no longer serve an institution that   
could blithely sacrifice my people for the sake of a political settlement," he   
said sharply.  
"Yes, I know," she reassured him. "But I thought, once aboard Voyager--"  
He interrupted once more. "It was because of you, Kathryn. What you offered me   
and my crew. Despite the fact that we were wanted criminals, you offered me the   
chance to work with you instead of against you. And the way you treated all of   
us as equals from the very start." He ran his hand through his hair   
distractedly. "Not too many other Starfleet commanders would have reacted the   
same way. Probably would have had us thrown in the brig instead for the next   
seventy years, or however long it would take till we got home." His lips twisted   
in an ironic smile. "I suppose we were very lucky that it was Voyager who was   
sent out to arrest us, and not some other vessel."  
Her brain could not get past his initial statement, his implication--no, his   
assertion--about the Maquis. Somehow, she hadn't given much thought over the   
years that the more 'diverse' elements of her crew hadn't fully accepted the   
Starfleet way, that instead they served solely out of a sense of personal   
loyalty to her, the captain who offered them a way, however tenuous, of getting   
back home.  
She looked over at Chakotay once more, studying him more carefully than she had   
in some time. Ever since Prixin, when she had decided to allow their   
relationship to progress to the intimacy they both had wanted for so long, she   
hadn't stopped to analyze very much, content to live in the moment, even as the   
light years separating them from home became fewer and fewer. With a sudden   
pang, she realized that coming home might take away the most precious thing the   
Delta Quadrant had given her. Her own plans were somewhat nebulous, but it had   
never occurred to her to wonder if in the future Chakotay would still be there   
by her side.  
She strove to keep her voice steady. "So you're saying you're going to leave   
Starfleet? What will you do? Where will you go?"  
He shook his head slowly. "I don't have any answers. Not yet. And besides, it   
may not be up to me. Or even you, for that matter."  
A sudden chirp from her comm badge made them both jump. "Transporter room to   
Captain Janeway." She recognized the crisp tone of Ensign Mulcahey.  
"Janeway here."  
"The away team is assembled, Captain."  
"Thank you, Ensign. I'm on my way." She turned back to the man she'd come to   
depend on so much over the years. "Chakotay--"  
"Go, they're waiting for you." He made a shooing motion with his hands. "We can   
continue this another time."  
"All right." She gave him a quick kiss. "Take care of my ship for me."  
"I always do."  
"I know. And I appreciate it." She gave him one last lingering glance before she   
headed out the door.  
***  
"Just what. . . I don't need . . . tonight . . . when I've got . . . so much to   
do . . . figuring out how . . . to get the drive fixed . . . so we can get . . .   
back on track . . ."  
Every guttural phrase B'Elanna muttered was punctuated by a vigorous--almost   
vicious--stroke of her hairbrush, relentlessly dragged through her thick mane of   
hair. She didn't stop until it didn't dare *not* gleam in the light of the   
dressing table mirror. The last thing she needed tonight was to attend a   
diplomatic function. She was the chief engineer! She had responsibilities to her   
crew mates and to her ship. She never enjoyed getting all gussied up for   
functions like this anyway. Why did it always seem she was forced into doing   
something like this when she already had so much to do?  
Adding insult to injury: B'Elanna could smell the heavenly scent of fresh   
popcorn wafting out of the popper. Leave it to Tom to replicate an ancient   
machine for popping corn instead of just ordering the stuff already made from   
the replicator, but she had to admit it tasted better that way.  
A little more lipstick, another puff to her nose, and B'Elanna was as ready as   
she would ever be. As she stalked out of the dressing room, B'Elanna grumbled   
beneath her breath about sacrifices made for people who didn't even notice what   
was being given up, not really expecting any answer. Her husband and daughter,   
clad in matching rust-colored sweatsuits, were far too busy to pay any attention   
to her anyway.  
Her mood was not improved by the sound of her daughter gurgling with delight at   
her father. Tom, of course, was encouraging her, growling, "Are you swinging   
that bat'leth at *me*, my little Warrior Princess?" His voice was muffled from   
rubbing his face in Miral's sturdy tummy. Ruefully, B'Elanna decided she would   
much prefer to join them instead of going to an alien banquet with foods that   
had a high probability of being either bad for her or horrible tasting.  
"Oh, I really wanted to see this movie, too," B'Elanna moaned when she caught   
sight of the television screen. "I think Hepburn's got better form swinging that   
golf club than you do, Tom."  
"Listen to her, Miral. I think I'm being insulted again--as if it wasn't bad   
enough being ignored by the Caephidians."  
"I don't notice any major damage to your ego, Tom." Despite her pique, which had   
started as soon as she'd been ordered by the captain to attend the evening's   
event, B'Elanna's spirits were raised by the sight of her daughter, cuddled up   
in her father's arms. Sighing, she asked, "Are you sure you don't want to talk   
me into playing hooky from this dinner?"  
Tom grinned back at her, "I'd love to, but the captain would kill me. It's okay.   
We can watch it again another night, B'Elanna. Tracy and Hepburn in 'Pat and   
Mike' is one of my favorites. Don't you think Hepburn looks a lot like Captain   
Janeway?"  
"She certainly sounds like her."  
She gazed at the screen for a few minutes, enjoying a few scenes from the movie.   
Most of the time, Tom's movie choices were about as compatible with B'Elanna's   
as his taste in holodeck programs, but Tracy and Hepburn movies were different.   
It hadn't escaped B'Elanna's notice that the competitiveness of the couple was   
not unlike the way the two of them sometimes acted. And the actress did resemble   
Captain Janeway more than a little, although B'Elanna was not about to admit   
that to Tom.  
Finally, she said reluctantly, "I guess I'd better go. I'm supposed to meet Sam,   
the Doctor, and the captain in the Transporter Room. Don't let her eat that   
popcorn. She's liable to choke on the kernels. You know what the Doctor said."  
"We'll be fine. Have a nice time at dinner," Tom said, settling down on the   
couch with Miral and absently breaking up pieces of the popcorn so that only the   
tiniest, softest pieces would end up in Miral's inquisitive mouth.  
"Don't miss me too much," B'Elanna called out as she stepped through the door.   
The only answer was the flickering light of the television set. B'Elanna's   
family was so engrossed in what they were watching, she doubted they even knew   
she had gone.  
***  
"You look great, Mom."  
"Thank you, Naomi," Sam replied, fluffing her hair one more time as they left   
their quarters. Naomi's comment gratified her immensely. While she had always   
enjoyed a close relationship with her daughter because of their unique situation   
on Voyager, Sam could never hear enough compliments like that. What parent   
could? Especially from someone who was, in human terms, a teenager.  
"The cadet dress uniform is pretty nice, too, I understand. I wonder if I'll   
ever get a chance to wear one?" Naomi sighed dramatically as she followed her   
mother into the corridor and headed towards the turbolift with her.  
"Oh, at the rate we're going, I'm sure you will--once you get to the Academy."   
Sam smiled sweetly, perfectly aware of the path this conversation was taking.  
"You know, I've heard that the Caephidians really value motherhood, especially   
having daughters," Naomi remarked, a little too off-handedly. "Are you sure it   
wouldn't be a good idea if I came along with you to represent Voyager?"  
Naomi's voice was deceptively mild; her blue eyes shone with sincerity. She was   
the picture of innocence. Sam unsuccessfully tried to stifle her smile as she   
said, "The Caephidians also value doing one's duty very highly. And you have an   
assignment tonight in Astrometrics, don't you?"  
Naomi wrinkled her nose in frustration. "Drat. I hoped you'd help get me out of   
it."  
"Dealing with being on duty at inconvenient times is a necessity when you choose   
the life of a Starfleet officer." Sam kept her voice deliberately mild, not   
wishing to provoke her daughter unduly, although Naomi didn't really seem upset.  
She quickly showed she wasn't as she grinned, "Well, it was worth a try, wasn't   
it?"  
"It sure was," Sam gave her daughter a quick hug as they stepped onto the lift.   
"And you know what? I'm a little disappointed you're not going, Honey. I really   
wanted to have an excuse to show you off to the Caephidians."  
"Next time," Naomi said.  
"You bet," Sam replied as the door swished open at Deck 9.  
"Betting about what?" B'Elanna asked as she stepped briskly onto the turbolift,   
tugging at the hem of her dress uniform jacket.  
"We were just saying that next time the Caephidians ask us to dinner, we should   
ask to bring our daughters along with us so we can show them off," Sam said.  
"The next time the Caephidians ask us for dinner, I hope I don't have a ship to   
fix!" B'Elanna replied bitingly. "I'm too busy for nonsense like this! I'd   
gladly trade places with you, Naomi."  
Wisely, neither Wildman responded to this statement. The door opened again   
almost immediately. "Deck 8. This is my stop," Naomi said. "See you later, Mom.   
Take notes so you can tell me all about it!"  
"Have a good shift, Honey." As the turbolift moved upwards again, Sam sighed,   
"She's growing up so fast."  
"I know what you mean. I can't believe how big Miral is getting. We had to   
replicate her another pair of shoes this evening because the ones she had were   
too small already. It's not possible. Wasn't she born only a few days ago?"  
"I'm sure it seems like that," Sam agreed. "They insist on growing up right   
before your eyes, long before we're ready, don't they?" The two bobbed their   
heads in shared sympathy, acknowledging that universal complaint of mothers.  
As they exited the turbolift at Deck 4, a stormy-faced Jenny Delaney stomped   
into it and grunted, "Deck 8."  
"What's with her?" B'Elanna asked, momentarily shaken out of her doldrums at the   
sight of someone else in a worse mood.  
"She's not happy about having to take care of Astrometrics while I'm out having   
a good time at the palace," replied Megan Delaney as they walked down the   
corridor to the transporter room.  
"There's a lot of that going around," Sam remarked.  
"As if I really have time for a diplomatic dinner while we've got so much to do   
here!" Megan complained.  
"Lot of that going around, too," B'Elanna said dryly, exchanging a bemused   
glance with Sam before changing the subject. "Is the captain here yet?"  
"No. The Doctor and Harper, who's got the security shift, aren't here yet,   
either."  
"Well, while we're waiting . . . " B'Elanna tapped her comm badge. "Torres to   
Carey. Joe? What's the status of the drive? Did you find out what happened yet?"   
B'Elanna rapidly strode into the transporter room as she received the latest   
diagnostics results on the slipstream drive. Sam and Megan followed more slowly.  
Sam happened to glance over her shoulder towards the turbolift just before the   
transporter room door closed. "Hold open!" she ordered as she saw two people   
exiting the lift. "Oh, my!" Sam exclaimed, drawing the attention of her two   
companions and Mulcahey, the transporter technician on duty.  
"Kahless! It's Katharine Hepburn!"  
::::B'Elanna? What did you just say?:::: Joe's voice echoed out of the comm   
badge. His curiosity was to go unsatisfied for the time being, however, as   
B'Elanna's response was to say, "Torres, out."  
Ensign Julia Harper's lips were tightly pursed, as if that were the only way she   
could prevent herself from erupting into guffaws of laughter. Sam had a hunch   
she looked a lot like Harper. From behind her, Sam heard Megan gurgle something   
unintelligible, while Mulcahey turned his head away, snickering audibly, before   
getting himself under control and calling the captain to let her know the away   
team was assembled and waiting for her.  
Sam wasn't quite sure how long the awkward silence lasted after Mulcahey's   
communication with the captain ended, but it probably wasn't as long as it   
seemed.  
B'Elanna finally broke the silence. "Tom put you up to this, didn't he?"  
"Why, yes, Lieutenant. He helped me establish my appearance. I would have asked   
you, but I know how busy you've been. How do I look?"  
"Like Queen Arachnia," B'Elanna stated flatly, revising her first opinion   
somewhat. Sam realized that both actually were somewhat true.  
"I was in a theatrical mood," the Doctor replied archly. "This is, after all,   
going to require quite the rare performance from yours truly, your humble   
photonic physician. I'm not used to being an alto, you know--although it's   
certainly preferable to being a soprano."  
The voice was feminine but low-pitched and a bit raspy, with an accent that was   
just like that of the legendary twentieth century actress, yet with an   
undeniably sarcastic edge that was definitely the Doctor's own contribution. The   
cheekbones were high and aristocratic, just like Hepburn's; the frame slender;   
the stride long and graceful; but the hair . . . oh, that hair!  
Even in the early days on Voyager, Captain Janeway had never worn her hair in   
quite this swooping, exotic a style. She recognized it from trips to the   
holodeck with Naomi and Icheb when they wanted to play the Captain Proton   
scenario in the days when Sam was unwilling to allow them to go there   
unchaperoned.  
Just then, the doors to the transporter room parted once again to permit the   
captain to enter. She stopped dead in her tracks just inside the door, eyes   
narrowed, and stared at the EMH for several seconds. Sam held her breath.  
The captain cleared her throat. "Let's get going," was all she said, as she led   
the way onto the transporter pad.  
As the transmogrified doctor posed next to the captain, Sam had the wild urge to   
comment about how much the two resembled each other. She successfully refrained   
from voicing the observation, but she distinctly heard Megan whisper, "Jenny is   
never going to forgive me for missing this."  
"I just hope Naomi will," Sam murmured back, as Mulcahey worked the controls and   
the transporter room faded away, to be replaced by glistening walls of carved   
jet black marble.  
***  
The chamber the feast was held in appeared to have been carved out of a single   
massive piece of rock. The Voyager officers had beamed directly into the   
Matriarch's mountain fortress several hours ago, but the subsequent tour had   
shown them just how vast the palace was, with seemingly endless corridors and   
chambers on multiple levels. Janeway wouldn't be surprised to learn that the   
entire mountain had been hollowed out to accommodate the Matriarch's palace and   
main seat of government.  
She picked up her goblet and took a small sip of wine, glancing around the long   
banquet hall as she did so. The walls were hung with intricately woven   
tapestries, portraying heroes and legends of the Caephidian past, a pictorial   
representation of their history. The Matriarch herself had woven the most recent   
panel, they had been told, depicting the major accomplishments of her mother's   
reign. A bare space beside was clearly intended to one day be filled with her   
own exploits, woven by her offspring and heir. But so far, the Matriarch had no   
daughters.  
The captain had unobtrusively run her fingers over the smooth rock wall, whose   
rich veins of color indicated the presence of various minerals, colors which   
perfectly matched the tapestries and other draperies. The scientist in her   
wished for a tricorder to analyze the composition of the unfamiliar materials,   
but of course it would be a breach of good manners to scan her hosts' dwelling   
in such a manner. As it was, the Doctor was the only one of the away team   
equipped with a tricorder, which he had used to surreptitiously scan the lavish   
dishes on the table to determine their compatibility with Human and Klingon   
physiology.  
"Best to avoid the me'urav ashalmay," he'd murmured to her, as they took their   
places at the table, at the Matriarch's right side. "And eat only small amounts   
of the k'hazeh. The rest of the food shouldn't present any problems, although   
you should be aware that all of the beverages have alcohol contents ranging from   
five to 70 percent."  
"I hope that everything is to your liking, Captain," the Matriarch said, after   
the second course had been cleared away. She was resplendent in a deep purple   
velvet gown, richly embroidered with gold and silver threads. It set off her   
pale skin tones perfectly. A thick white ribbon, which bore a single   
multi-colored gem, was arranged across her forehead; the symbol of her office.   
It reminded Janeway of the diadem worn by Eastern monarchs in Earth's ancient   
past. Chakotay would have found this detail very interesting, she knew; he would   
have particularly loved to have an opportunity to study some of the tapestries   
up close. She tamped down the pang of regret, along with the memory of their   
last conversation, and turned to her hostess.  
"Yes, everything is fine, Matriarch," Janeway answered.  
"Please, call me Tirgana."  
Janeway smiled. "Then you must call me Janeway," she said, remembering the   
Caephidian naming customs. She gestured at their surroundings. "I must say, we   
are truly honored by this lavish feast you have arranged for us."  
"The honor is ours, Janeway," the Matriarch replied graciously. "We owe you a   
great debt of gratitude for your assistance." She inclined her head to where   
B'Elanna sat, deep in conversation with another Caephidian female, the First   
Science Minister. "And perhaps we will be able to return the favor and help you   
resume your way."  
"That would a definite benefit." A serving woman brought out plates heaped high   
with zimmelt, a delicacy that was the particular favorite of the Matriarch.   
Janeway took a cautious mouthful and immediately took another. Although it was a   
vegetable dish, it had the texture and flavor of braised veal, in a rich and   
pungent sauce. Janeway made a mental note to find out if Neelix could duplicate   
the recipe.  
The Matriarch hadn't missed her guest's reaction. "And of course, we will be   
more than happy to supply you with provisions."  
"On behalf of my crew, I thank you."  
The Matriarch turned to speak to one of her courtiers who had entered the hall,   
a woman who Janeway had been introduced to earlier, although she couldn't quite   
recall her name or office. So as not to eavesdrop, she turned to see how the   
other members of the away team were faring.  
The Doctor was discussing opera with the Minister of Culture. Fortunately the   
Caephidians saw nothing untoward about his appearance this evening, though the   
captain herself found it easier not to look in his direction for more than a few   
moments at a time.  
"Ah, but if you feel that way, then you would appreciate Margueritte's aria in   
the Metropolitan's performance of..." the Doctor was saying with an expansive   
wave of his hand. Beside him the security officer, Ensign Harper, concentrated   
on her food and did not appear to be comfortable engaging any of the Caephidians   
nearby in small talk.  
Samantha Wildman and Megan Delaney were listening to Susera, the Minister of the   
Interior. "...the vessel which attacked the Matriarch's ship belongs to Nareb,   
formerly Second to our late War Leader Tirgan."  
"Do you have evidence for this?" asked Samantha, obviously surprised by the   
matter-of-fact statement.  
The Minister nodded. "It is not the first time he has moved against the Royal   
Kindred."  
"You mean he killed Tirgan?" Samantha said.  
"Yes," Susera said emphatically. "Six weeks ago, he murdered the Matriarch's   
Consort, doubtless hoping to fill that position himself."  
"And he probably wouldn't stop there," put in Megan.  
The Minister looked at her in surprise. "What do you mean, Lieutenant?"  
"That once he established himself as head of the army, or War Leader, Nareb   
would probably try to use that as a tool for overthrowing the government. How   
much of your fleet has he taken control of?"  
Bemused, the Caephidians within earshot all began shaking their heads. "No, you   
don't understand. Nareb wishes to fill Tirgan's shoes in every respect,   
including the role of Consort. Then his progeny, if he were to sire a daughter,   
would one day be the next Matriarch," Susera's aide Galera explained.  
The Voyager officers exchanged glances. "You mean he wouldn't try to seize power   
in his own name?"  
Now the Minister began to laugh. "A male as ruler? What a preposterous idea!"  
"They can think no further than battle and the hunt, and of impressing females,"   
chimed in Gelara. "I cannot begin to think of what a shambles everything would   
be in if the males were ruling our society."  
Despite herself, Megan grinned. "Can't argue with that one," she murmured to   
Samantha.  
"You're thinking of Human males," Sam reminded her, although her lips twitched   
slightly.  
As the Matriarch was still occupied, the captain glanced around the banquet hall   
once more. There must have been over one hundred people in the chamber, she   
estimated. They ranged in age all the way from the Matriarch's elderly   
great-aunt, to a few young children. There was even a baby, the Matriarch's   
niece Bragila, who looked to be younger than Miral Paris. With one exception,   
all the attendees, as well as the servants, were female.  
The one exception was the Matriarch's six year old son, Nan. He had smiled shyly   
when the visitors were introduced, and then had been led off to a smaller table   
by his nursemaid Rakila. Janeway could see him now from where she sat. Another   
woman had joined them, and was clearly trying to coax the little boy to eat some   
more. Janeway bit back a smile as Nan shook his head emphatically, and scowled.  
"I don't want that!" he said loudly. "I told you that before, Majalay!" His face   
was flushed, perhaps due to temper; the large birthmark above his brow stood out   
in greater relief than usual.  
Majalay exchanged glances with Rakila. "Just a little bit, and then you can have   
your dessert."  
"NO!" yelled Nan, and then he lunged forward. It looked at first as though he   
was trying to grab something on the table, the forbidden dessert perhaps. But   
when his body began jerking convulsively, it became evident that something was   
very wrong.  
The Matriarch rushed over, alerted by Majalay's scream. "Nan!" A knot of people   
quickly gathered around the boy's still thrashing form. "Where is the   
Physician?" she cried.  
Janeway and her officers had also risen, but the Doctor waded determinedly into   
the fray. "Stand back, everyone."  
"The Royal Physician," said the Matriarch once more, desperately holding onto   
her child's flailing limbs as if she could will him to recover. "Where is she?"  
"Your pardon, Matriarch," said one of the courtiers. "The Physician was called   
away earlier to attend to a family emergency--"  
Meanwhile, Voyager's EMH had whipped out his tricorder and done a quick scan. He   
reached into his medikit and brought out a hypo. Glancing at the boy's mother,   
he waited for her nod before injecting the drug.  
The change in Nan was immediate. He stopped thrashing, and lay deathly still.  
"He's not breathing," said the Matriarch, her eyes wide and fearful. "Do   
something!"  
The Doctor held up a hand. "Just wait a moment...ah, there we go." In the   
tremulous silence, the sound of the boy taking a deep breath sounded like a   
triumphant roar. "He should be all right now."  
The Matriarch gathered her son into her arms and held him for a long moment.   
Finally, she looked up. "Once more, I am in your debt, Captain. And of your   
valiant crew."  
The Doctor frowned over his readings, and then glanced at the child who was   
sitting up, very pale, and looking confused. "Has your son ever experienced   
anything like this before?"  
The nursemaid Rakila spoke up nervously. "Never." Beside her, Majalay nodded.  
"Can you tell what it was, Doctor?" asked the Matriarch, as she stroked her   
son's forehead with a trembling hand. Nan closed his eyes and leaned against his   
mother, clearly exhausted.  
"From what I can tell, he experienced an allergic reaction, most likely to   
something he ate. Was there anything served tonight that he hasn't tried   
before?"  
Again, the two nursemaids exchanged glances. "Just the agvania sweet," Majalay   
said at last. "But he only had a little bit."  
"Sometimes, that's all it takes," the Doctor said and stood. "With your   
permission, I would like to accompany Nan back to his quarters and run some more   
tests." He forestalled the Matriarch's worried question. "Just to make sure that   
everything is all right."  
"All right. You have my permission," the Matriarch said. Reluctantly, she handed   
Nan to Rakila. "I will come up shortly." She turned to her guests. "I am sorry   
for the interruption."  
"Not at all," Janeway said. "In fact, we really need to be returning to our   
ship."  
"Are you sure we cannot offer you hospitality for the night?"  
"No, thank you. We wouldn't want to impose upon you any further, especially when   
you have other concerns." Janeway watched as the Doctor followed the nursemaids   
out of the hall, Nan in tow.  
"And of course, you are anxious to return to your mates," the Matriarch said,   
with a wistful note in her voice. Janeway recalled once more that the   
Matriarch's consort had died not too long ago.  
"Yes. Once more we thank you, Matriarch."  
"We will be in touch, Captain."  
***  
The Doctor hurried down the deserted corridor, trying to keep the rapidly   
retreating backs of the Caephidian nursemaids in sight. The passageway twisted   
and turned, at one point shifting to a steep incline and then plunging downward   
once more. It occurred to him that the women were deliberately taking a   
circuitous route to keep him from learning too much about the location of the   
Royal Apartments within the palace compound.  
Finally, he saw Majalay and Rakila come to a halt. Rakila, who had been carrying   
Nan until now, handed the boy to Majalay, along with a whispered comment. The   
Doctor saw their lips move, but even with his enhanced sensory abilities, he was   
unable to make out what the women were saying. Majalay made a quick gesture with   
her free hand--the other was supporting Nan's head against her shoulder--and   
Rakila scurried off, moving even more quickly now that she was no longer   
burdened by the weight of the child.  
Majalay turned impatiently to the Doctor. "Watch your step." She tapped her belt   
and an entire section of the wall slid away in front of them, revealing a small   
chamber, which the Doctor guessed to be some sort of turbolift. Majalay motioned   
for him to precede her, then stepped in herself, the door instantly closing   
behind her. As the 'lift moved there was total silence, except for the sound of   
Nan's breathing.  
When the door opened once more, a vastly different hallway was revealed. Two   
guards sprang to attention, the first that the Doctor had seen. He supposed the   
other corridors contained sophisticated surveillance equipment, making the   
physical presence of any security officers superfluous. But the Royal Apartments   
apparently were a different story. The guards glanced curiously at the Doctor,   
then at Majalay. The nursemaid nodded curtly. "This is the Voyager Physician.   
She is with me by permission of the Matriarch."  
They passed through a series of antechambers, then a large room which looked as   
though it might be a schoolroom, equipped as it was with a number of computer   
terminals and tables with various holographic displays. One was a representation   
of the Caephidian solar system. A few toys were scattered about as well.  
Another guard, dressed like the first two in full body armor and helmet which   
completely obscured any facial features, stood poised outside what the Doctor   
assumed was Nan's bedroom. Once again Majalay explained the visitor's presence.  
Majalay laid the boy down on his bed and began to remove his boots. Nan's eyes   
were closed, and his breathing indicated he had fallen asleep. She held up a   
preemptory hand when the Doctor approached. "He is exhausted and needs his   
rest."  
"I won't disturb him, I promise," the Doctor said. He shifted his feet to avoid   
stepping on a small stuffed animal, roughly similar to a Terran rabbit, if that   
animal was covered in scales. He bent down to pick it up and laid it on the bed   
next to Nan. "I just want to run a few simple scans, to make sure he is   
completely recovered from tonight's events." He added, "It is the Matriarch's   
wish that I do so."  
Majalay didn't answer, though her disapproval was evident. She gently eased the   
lavishly embroidered waistcoat over Nan's head and slipped on a loose   
nightshirt. She moved Nan's head onto the pillow and pulled the golden coverlet   
up to his chin. Her hand rested on his shoulder for a moment, her lips   
trembling. Then, her features settling into an expressionless mask, she took up   
a position next to the head of the bed. "You may proceed with your exam,   
Doctor."  
He could tell she was reluctant to leave him alone with the boy. "Thank you," he   
said, reminding himself that as one of the nursemaids charged with Nan's care,   
she was undoubtedly very attached to him and any irritation she was exhibiting   
was her way of expressing her anxiety over what had just occurred.  
"Where is Rakila?" he asked, as he pulled out his mediwand and began scanning   
the boy.  
Majalay appeared taken aback for a moment. "She had an errand to perform."  
"Will she be returning shortly?"  
"That is no concern of yours," Majalay snapped.  
The Doctor said soothingly, "I just wanted to know so that I can personally   
reassure her that Nan is all right, that it was nothing she did which caused him   
to react in this manner."  
"Of course not. Why would she think otherwise?" Majalay said. The Doctor looked   
at her sharply, thinking he'd caught a note of uncertainty in the nurse's voice.  
"No reason at all. Allergies can be difficult to discern, especially if they   
appear without warning, and with such dramatic effect." As he spoke, the Doctor   
kept his eye on his tricorder and then casually aimed the mediwand in Majalay's   
direction.  
"Is Nan all right?" said a new voice. The Doctor looked up to see an older woman   
in a simple dark gray tunic enter the bedroom, a look of mingled shock and   
concern on her face. "Majalay, what happened? I heard Nan was taken ill at the   
feast."  
"He had an unpleasant reaction to something he ate, I'm afraid," the Doctor   
said. The woman looked up in surprise; evidently she hadn't noticed him standing   
there. He held out his hand to the newcomer, as Majalay didn't seem inclined to   
make the introductions. "I am Voyager's Physician."  
"Nepay, the Royal Tutor." She looked down at the sleeping child. "Is he all   
right now?"  
The Doctor put away his instruments. "Nan will be just fine."  
"That's good to know," Nepay said, relief evident in her voice.  
Majalay stepped forward quickly. "If you're finished, Doctor, I will have   
someone escort you to the transporter chamber, so you may return to your ship."  
"Thank you, but I would first like to report personally to the Matriarch," the   
Doctor said. "And leave a message for your Physician, so she can be fully   
briefed on what transpired this evening."  
"Of course," said Majalay, though clearly the sooner the Doctor left the happier   
she would be. She turned to the Tutor. "Nepay, perhaps you wouldn't mind?"  
"Not at all," Nepay said. "Just let me say good night to my favorite pupil." She   
bent over the child's bed and lightly touched his cheek, a tender expression on   
her face. "Pleasant dreams, little one."  
The Doctor nodded, his mind on what he would say in his report to the   
Matriarch--and to Captain Janeway.  
***  
"She still isn't very happy, is she?" Icheb said softly.  
"No, she isn't," Naomi replied. She hoped that their superior officer had not   
overheard them. Jenny Delaney had been pouting since she arrived in   
Astrometrics, obviously annoyed that her sister had gotten the opportunity to   
attend the Matriarch's feast while she was stuck "babysitting" cadets. Since   
overhearing that comment, Naomi and Icheb had both worked very hard at their   
stellar mapping duties, on their very best behavior so as to avoid upsetting her   
any further. "Usually, she flirts a little with Lieutenant Kim whenever  
he's around, but she hasn't done it once tonight, even though he's been here   
more than on the bridge tonight."  
"Harry has been seeing Marla Gilmore for some time now. Perhaps she expressed a   
lack of appreciation for anyone flirting with Harry but her?"  
"Maybe . . ."  
By her tone, Naomi was clearly not convinced. Icheb, however, was not in the   
mood to gossip tonight.  
"We can take a break in the mess hall in a half hour. Neelix and Sarexa said   
they were going to have Pleeka Rind Casserole on the menu tonight."  
"That is, if Lieutenant Kim hasn't eaten it all already! He loves it."  
Icheb grinned. "I like it, too. We could take our trays to aeroponics if you   
want. 'Kes's Flower' is in bloom now," he said, referring to one of the   
Ocampan's plant hybrids. Even though he had never met her, it was a favorite of   
his, and he looked forward to its blooms as avidly as any of those who had known   
Kes.  
Naomi smiled. "Maybe, if we can't get a good table in the mess hall." Naomi   
turned back to her work, trying to figure out what was wrong with the resolution   
on her console screen. The engineers were so busy right now, she hated to ask   
them to take the time to fix it.  
"Icheb, can you help me get a clear picture on my console?" she finally asked.   
"It's definitely off."  
"That's odd," Icheb said. "Mine is not clear, either, but I just finished a   
diagnostic and it says the screen is calibrated properly."  
Naomi walked over to his station and looked at his work. As he scanned different   
quadrant views she could see that, like her own console, the screens all had a   
blurry quality, almost a double image. There was one major discrepancy   
however--one area where the star fields didn't match up at all. Suddenly she   
touched his wrist and said, "Hold that view, Icheb. Look at that! This is a lot   
more than just an instrument problem!"  
He nodded agreement and called Jenny Delaney over immediately.  
"What is it, Cadet?" Jenny asked as she approached.  
"I was just incorporating the new star charts with the ones in our data base. I   
was having some trouble, since there are many minor discrepancies, but Naomi   
just pointed out one that is not minor."  
"It's almost as if we're getting two images of the same star field superimposed   
on each other, off by only a few degrees," Naomi added. "Except for this one   
here. This nova is exactly where the brown dwarf we catalogued a few months ago   
should be."  
As Jenny stared at the images, the pinched look on her face vanished. Quietly,   
she said, "The only way that brown dwarf could be the same star is if we are   
displaced in time, not just space."  
Icheb looked up from his console where he had been running another set of data.   
"Three hundred and ninety seven years into the past, by my calculations."  
Naomi was staggered by the implications. "Shouldn't we call the captain to see   
this?"  
"I don't know how we can get word to her right now. She's on the planet with the   
Caephidians." Suddenly Jenny caught her breath. "Interacting with the   
Caephidians. It may already be too late not to have changed the future! We'd   
better send for Harry, and for Commander Chakotay and Tuvok right now, though.   
This changes everything."  
ACT 3  
Janeway sat in her Ready Room, trying to assimilate the astounding revelation   
from Astrometrics that had greeted her as soon as she returned to the ship. That   
was one hell of a misstep in the last slipstream jump, she thought, if it had   
displaced them temporally as well as spatially.  
The physical distance was the least of their worries now. Certainly, it was   
disheartening to discover that Voyager was once more back in the Delta   
Quadrant--particularly after the jubilation that had greeted the earlier   
announcement that the ship had crossed over the invisible boundary into the   
Alpha Quadrant. But a dispassionate review of their situation showed that they   
had really only lost a total of five thousand light years. That could be easily   
made up--just hop right back in the slipstream. Once they determined what had   
gone wrong on this past attempt, she reminded herself. Still, they had over a   
dozen successful jumps prior to this. No, the physical distance was not the   
issue.  
The news that they were stranded in the past, with no clue as to how to get   
back--this was serious. And as always when dealing with time travel, they'd have   
to be extremely careful not to inadvertently do anything that would change the   
nature of their own reality. She smiled briefly, without humor. She could   
certainly feel a little more sympathy for her (once and future?) nemesis Captain   
Braxton and the complexities that he faced, particularly when it came to   
Voyager. They'd certainly had more than their share of time travel experiences   
over the years. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling a major headache   
coming on.  
The door signal chimed. "Come," she called, hoping it would be Tuvok. A calm   
dispassionate viewpoint was what she needed right now. Both he and Chakotay were   
due to join her in a little while to discuss the situation, and hopefully   
present some options.  
To her surprise, she saw that it was the Doctor, once more back to his usual   
male appearance. She remembered now that he had stayed behind on the planet to   
treat the Matriarch's son. She'd forgotten all about it in the shock and   
confusion surrounding the most recent development. Clearly the Doctor had just   
returned and had come by to give her his report.  
"Yes, Doctor," she said, motioning him to a seat. "How is the boy doing? Were   
you able to determine what caused his illness?"  
"As I suspected, it was a simple allergic reaction, and when I left he was quite   
recovered and sleeping peacefully. No, Captain," the Doctor said, his brow   
furrowed, "that isn't what I came to speak to you about."  
"Then what is?" she asked.  
"While we were on the planet, I made an astonishing discovery that you need to   
know about immediately. It changes everything about our situation here."  
She held up a hand. "Thank you, Doctor, but I already know."  
His surprise was evident. "You do? But how? I only found out myself when I did   
the initial scan of the boy at the feast."  
"Ensign Delaney notified me a few minutes ago," she said, more calmly than she   
felt.  
"How did Ensign Delaney know? She was standing nowhere near me at the time."  
"Not Megan, Jenny," she said, giving him a curious look. "Jenny was in   
Astrometrics this evening, working with Icheb and Naomi. It was their   
observation while charting star positions which revealed the temporal   
displacement."  
If the Doctor had appeared to be puzzled before, that was nothing compared to   
the look on his face now. "Temporal displacement?" He suddenly slapped his   
forehead. "But of course! Now it makes perfect sense to me."  
She got up and went around to where he was sitting. "Doctor," she said   
carefully. "What are you talking about?"  
He stood as well. "What I discovered on the planet. I ran a hurried bioscan of   
the Matriarch's son at the feast, then another, more thorough, one in his   
quarters. I also scanned his nursemaid, tutor and one of the guards--all without   
their knowledge." He hesitated a moment, and said, "Captain, the   
Caephidians---they are a species we have encountered before, though that was not   
what they called themselves."  
"Who are they?"  
The Doctor's voice was very quiet as he answered. "Hirogen."  
She stared at him for a long moment, not sure she'd heard him properly.   
"Hirogen! Are you sure?"  
He nodded. "There's no doubt about it. The DNA matches exactly." He sighed, a   
surprisingly human gesture. "You would have probably discovered it yourself, if   
you had seen any adult males. But all of our dealings up to now have been with   
females, who lack the mottled skin and ridges of the mature males."  
Hirogen. She shivered involuntarily; she remembered the vicious hunters all too   
well, how from the very first their encounters had been marked by extreme   
aggression, remembered too how the Hirogen had taken over her ship and forced   
her crew into the role of prey.  
"But the societies are so different..." Her voice trailed off. Clearly something   
major must have happened within the past few centuries to cause so drastic a   
change.  
She closed her eyes, the throbbing in her forehead having changed to a full   
scale pounding.  
***  
"One more minute of your time, Matriarch?" Susera, the Minister of the Interior,   
bowed low. Standing a step behind her, Ristina, the government's leading   
scientist who also served the government as the primary Science Advisor, also   
bowed respectfully.  
Tirgana sighed. "It's very late, Susera. I've been kept up almost all night by   
the Warrior's Council's questions about the campaign they wish to wage against   
our former Second. Can't it wait until morning?"  
"We would not think of bothering you at such an hour if we did not feel it was   
of the utmost urgency," Susera replied. The perpetual wrinkle between her eyes   
that Tirgana had always thought of as the Minister's "worry furrow" was even   
deeper than usual tonight.  
"Very well. Walk with me back to my apartments and tell me what you must let me   
know at such an hour."  
"Matriarch, you asked us to try to find out what we could of this ship, Voyager.   
We have sent messages over the Communications Network as far as it reaches, but   
no one has ever encountered a ship called Voyager. It seems to have appeared out   
of nowhere! We've also inquired about this Federation they represent. No one has   
ever heard of it, either."  
Tirgana picked up her pace. "This is quite unexpected." She moved to the right   
of the corridor, the closest place where a communications terminal was located,   
and contacted her old tutor.  
::::Yes?:::: Nepay drawled out her response sleepily.  
"Nepay, you reported that Voyager's physician took care of Nan and then left   
hours ago . . ."  
::::Why, yes, she did. ::::  
"And Nan was well when you last saw him?"  
::::He went to sleep shortly after their Doctor left. Nan was fine, as I told   
you. Their physician was very skilled and very good with him, too, from what I   
saw.::::  
"Please check on Nan for me. I've just heard some rather disturbing news and I   
wish to make certain he is still 'fine.' "  
::::Of course. It will only take me a few nuta.::::  
"Thank you, Nepay. I'm sorry to disturb you."  
::::Don't worry about it, my lady Tirgana. I will always serve you and your   
family in any way I can. It's just a little harder to wake up in the middle of   
the night, now that I'm in my dotage!::::  
"You, never!" The Matriarch said gently, before cutting off the signal.  
Turning to her courtiers, Tirgana mused, "I feel certain that Janeway is   
trustworthy, but it's wise to be careful."  
The science advisor cleared her throat. "Matriarch, I also feel no ill will from   
those on Voyager. I spent a great deal of the evening speaking with their chief   
engineer. From the story she told about their journey and their hardships, I   
cannot believe they would be a deliberate threat . . ."  
"You are too trusting, Ristina! That has always been a weakness!" Susera   
grunted.  
"As I was saying, I do not believe they would offer a *deliberate* threat, but   
there could be another explanation for their not being known to our neighbors.   
B'Elanna told me the new propulsion system they use is somewhat difficult to   
control. Also, when they come back into normal space, a great number of   
transformed particles can be detected around their ship. They call the particles   
'malleotrons,' but there is no doubt about what they are actually detecting."  
"Any sign of chronitons?" the Matriarch asked sharply.  
"They say no. I've asked Crolay--the Master of the Batina--to check her own   
sensor records to see if any are found, but . . ."  
"Tirgana! Tirgana!" The Matriarch looked up sharply and saw Nepay loping wildly   
down the corridor. "Nan is missing!"  
"What!" The Matriarch and her aides stopped abruptly in their tracks as the   
tutor, gasping for breath, fell to her knees in front of them.  
"I went to your chambers . . . At first, Rakila did not answer, and I began to   
worry . . . I called a guard to knock down the door, and just before he was   
going to do it, Rakila finally opened it. She assured me Nan was well, but I   
told her you ordered me to check on him . . . and he was not there! And when I   
asked Rakila where he could be, she could not answer me! And Majalay was not   
even there for me to ask her what she knew!"  
"Susera, call Evasek to put all our forces on the alert." Since her consort's   
death and the discovery of Nerab's treachery, Evasek had been serving as interim   
War Leader. "Ristina, check on the position of Voyager! I want to ask Janeway   
and her Doctor about this! And Nepay . . ." Tirgana bent down and helped her old   
tutor up off her knees, "Where is Rakila now?"  
"I left her in your apartments, Matriarch. I'm sorry . . . I didn't think . . .   
I had to get word to you and I . . ."  
"Nepay, you have done exactly what you should have done. Now, bring me Rakila so   
we can find out what she knows. I want to find my son! Now go!"  
***  
"Bridge to Captain Janeway."  
Janeway stirred, having been in the midst of a particularly deep sleep. "Janeway   
here," she said groggily. Her eyes still shut, she automatically reached across   
the bed. But instead of a warm body next to her, her fingers found only empty   
space. She raised herself to a sitting position and confirmed that she was   
indeed alone. Chakotay must have gotten up already.  
"Captain, we're being hailed by the Matriarch's Science Minister," Ensign Lang   
said.  
After the recent revelations about the Caephidians' identity--and Voyager's   
temporal displacement--Janeway was reluctant to have more contact with the   
aliens than absolutely necessary. It appeared, however, that she had no choice.   
"All right. I'll take it here, from my quarters," Janeway replied. She caught   
sight of the chronometer. Hastily, she threw on her robe and keyed the terminal.  
The tall figure of the Caephidian Science Advisor, still dressed in her robes   
from the Gratitude Feast, appeared before her. "Janeway here. Good morning,   
Minister Ristina. Excuse me for not being dressed yet, but my crew was letting   
me sleep in this morning . . ."  
"Your dress is of no consequence, Captain. What is important is that your ship   
is still here, in orbit around our Homeworld."  
"We would have said good-bye if we planned to leave, Minister," Janeway said,   
smiling crookedly at first, but something about the stiff posture of the   
Caephidian alerted her. "Is something wrong?"  
"Yes, Captain, very wrong. The Matriarch's son is missing."  
Janeway took a moment to digest this. "You've obviously searched the palace   
grounds before contacting us, I presume."  
"Of course. No one has seen him. Our sensors do not record his unique   
biosignature anywhere on this planet or in the fleet. And one of his nursemaids   
is also missing."  
"You've scanned Voyager, too, I take it, and know we don't have them here."  
"Regretfully, yes, we have--and without your permission. You understand our need   
for haste."  
"I do. You wish to speak to our Doctor, then, to see what h . . . she knows?"   
Janeway's voice was grim.  
"Yes, Captain. She was one of the last to see Nan."  
"I'll have the Doctor contact you immediately." Inwardly, the captain sighed as   
she made a mental note to warn the Doctor he'd better get ready to reprise his   
'Hepburn persona' for another performance. They didn't want the Caephidians any   
more upset than they already were.  
***  
Janeway strode onto the bridge several minutes later. "Report."  
Chakotay stood up to yield the command chair to the captain. "We've consulted   
our logs. Five vessels left orbit during the night, two during the Feast itself,   
another two shortly after the Feast ended, and one that left later, about three   
hours ago."  
"Anything inherently suspicious?" Janeway asked. "Or was this all just routine   
shipping?"  
"The last one to leave was a small, fast courier vessel." Chakotay added   
meaningfully, "The Caephidians haven't been able to match it up with one of   
their vessels--it has an unknown registration. They're trying to trace it right   
now."  
"Did you conduct any sensor sweeps at the time?" Janeway asked, though she   
didn't think it very likely.  
"We didn't think to do one, sorry, Captain," Chakotay said. "We can't know for   
sure, but as it's the only one that hasn't responded to the Caephidians' hails   
for information, I'd say that's the one that has the boy on it."  
"Have you advised the Caephidians of this?"  
"I informed their Science Minister about five minutes ago, right after I put   
Voyager on yellow alert."  
"And she spoke to you?" Janeway said in surprise.  
"Yes, in fact, she approved of me being on duty." Chakotay gave a sardonic   
smile. "Apparently the Caephidians are on 'Warrior Alert,' so they weren't   
surprised to see a male in charge of a vessel equipped for battle."  
Janeway took her seat and sat for a moment, fingers steepled in front of her   
chin, considering her options. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."  
"Me, too."  
"Captain, we're being hailed again by the Caephidians," Ensign Lang reported.  
"On screen," Janeway said, getting to her feet. The Matriarch herself came on   
the viewscreen. At her side stood an adult male, the first such Caephidian   
Voyager had seen. His mottles and ridged skin clearly identified his species.  
The Matriarch spoke first. "Captain Janeway, I've asked my War Leader Evasek to   
be here with us. I hope you do not mind."  
"Not at all. My first officer informed me that you are on 'Warrior Alert,' as   
are we."  
"Thank you, Captain." The Matriarch's voice changed, became softer and yet more   
urgent. "I have something to ask of you."  
"Yes," Janeway said, closing her eyes for a few seconds. Somehow, she knew what   
the Matriarch was going to say.  
"My son has disappeared, along with his nursemaid. I suspect foul play on the   
part of my enemy, the murderer of my consort, who almost certainly was the one   
who attacked our ships a few days ago. Our forces are on the alert, but they are   
scattered. I have limited resources close at hand. Can you please help us? It   
would give us an advantage, perhaps, since the traitor Nareb would not know much   
about your ship and its technology."  
Janeway sighed deeply, feeling a knot in her stomach the size of a fist. After   
hesitating longer than she wished, she finally said, "I understand. Your   
reasoning is sound, but I will need to consult with my senior staff first,   
Matriarch. I hope you understand. I'll contact you shortly with our answer."  
If the Matriarch was disappointed, she gave no outward sign. "Of course,   
Captain. I would tell you to take all the time you wish, but I cannot. Every   
nuta my son is missing, the more danger he will be in! As one mother to another,   
please say yes."  
Janeway was saved from having to respond to the heartfelt plea as the Matriarch   
broke the connection abruptly. The viewscreen was once more occupied by the   
sight of the Caephidian homeworld rotating serenely in space.  
"One mother to another," she murmured half to herself and knew that, in a way,   
it was true.  
ACT 4  
  
Janeway's voice betrayed very little of the inner conflict she was obviously   
feeling. "I don't need to remind the two of you just how tenuous our position   
has become."  
"Indeed," replied Tuvok. He and Commander Chakotay were conferring with the   
captain in her Ready Room. "Even before the Matriarch's request for assistance   
in the matter of her kidnapped son, our position was already quite precarious."  
"Aside from the issue of non-interference with a planet's internal affairs,   
there is the Temporal Prime Directive," Janeway agreed. "Even without it being a   
question of a critical cusp in a society's history, anything we do, no matter   
how minor, may have unforeseen results."  
"Perhaps more information will help clarify things," Chakotay said, speaking for   
the first time. He leaned over the captain's desk and called up a data file on   
her computer terminal. "Once we became aware that we were dealing with Hirogen,   
and we pinpointed our temporal location to exactly 397 years in the past, I   
decided to do a little research."  
"But how?" asked the captain.  
"Donek," Chakotay replied simply.  
Tuvok looked up sharply. "Indeed." More than a year earlier, Voyager had   
encountered a group of renegade holograms who had seized the Doctor and   
Lieutenant Torres, as part of their rebellion against non-photonic life forms.   
Donek had been one of the scientists involved in developing the optronic data   
core information--hologram technology--obtained by the Hirogen during their   
earlier takeover of Voyager. After the resolution of the crisis, Donek had   
downloaded some information regarding Hirogen culture into Voyager's databanks.  
"What have you found?" asked the captain, looking at the file with interest.  
"There's a lot of material to go through," Chakotay said, "So I'll just give you   
the highlights. Approximately four centuries ago, Hirogen society underwent a   
fundamental change, from a matriarchal society, to one in which the ritual of   
the Hunt was elevated from a mere symbolic representation of their ancient past   
as hunter-gatherers, to play a leading role in the culture. This was all due to   
just one individual, a War Leader by the name of Branan."  
At the touch of another control, a picture of the fabled leader appeared. At   
first glance, he resembled a typical Alpha Hirogen, large and muscular, with   
mottled skin and skull ridges. Looking closer, Janeway noticed a prominent blue   
birthmark on the left side of his forehead, cutting across one of his brow   
ridges. "Branan...Nan! Of course!"  
"Yes," Chakotay said. "The current Matriarch's son, Nan. Evidently he became the   
Consort of the next Matriarch, and that was his rise to power."  
Janeway paused for a moment, deep in thought. "Tirgana must not have had any   
daughters, so a close female relative of hers was probably her heir." Suddenly,   
she nodded. "She has a niece, the daughter of her sister, who at this moment in   
time, is just a baby a few months old. She was present at the feast we attended.   
Her name is Bragila."  
"Considering what we know of Caephidian naming conventions, it is obvious that   
Nan married his cousin and adopted the prefix of her name, adding it to his own,   
upon becoming Consort," Tuvok said. "It is fortuitous that the data Donek gave   
us included so much detail."  
"He was the hero of his people, Tuvok," Chakotay said, his voice rising in   
excitement. "Of course they preserved the important details of his career. And   
mimicked him as much as they could. I'm willing to bet that the custom of the   
hunters daubing their ridges with paint before a hunt is an attempt to copy   
their great leader's most recognizable facial feature. Even the name of the race   
reflects the impact he had on them--Hirogen, 'the progeny of the hero.'"  
Janeway closed her eyes. "That explains so much." She passed a tired hand over   
her face. "I don't suppose the records speak of any kidnapping that occurred   
when he was just a child, do they?"  
"Sorry, Captain," the first officer said. "The historians were only concerned   
with what happened after he became an adult. There isn't even any mention of who   
his mother was, or that she had ruled before him."  
"Clearly they were rewriting the details of their ancient past, not wanting to   
be reminded of the old matriarchy," Tuvok said. "Though there is evidence from   
the Hirogen we met, in our own time, that the females remained behind on their   
planets, attempting to hold the society together while the males went off to   
join the Hunt. The males still spoke of bringing trophies to impress the   
females." He looked over at the captain. She was staring silently at the screen   
once more, at the picture of the adult Branan.  
"This just makes my decision even more difficult," she said at last. "I can't   
help but wonder what if the boy doesn't survive this incident now?"  
"Doubtless another would have become War Leader in his stead," Tuvok said   
immediately. "According to the report of the away team, one of the eggs in the   
Ovarium on board the Batina belongs to the Matriarch--we can assume she had a   
second son."  
"And if he were the one who married his cousin and became War Leader," Janeway   
said, "Perhaps he would not have had such a drastic effect on Hirogen culture."  
"There is no way of knowing for sure," Tuvok objected. "We can ask what would   
happen to Hirogen culture if Nan didn't live to adulthood. But there's also the   
possibility that his brother could have had an even more adverse effect."  
"A more adverse effect?" Janeway questioned. She gave a brief humorless laugh.   
"A society which turned away from the pursuit of science and the arts--remember   
the communications array we found, when we first encountered the Hirogen? Each   
relay station was powered by a microsingularity. The scientific knowledge needed   
to harness such a thing, the level of technological development this   
implies--and look at what their descendants became, just a few centuries later."  
"And under another ruler it is possible the society would have experienced wars   
or invasion from an outside force," Tuvok objected.  
"A good point," Chakotay said. His own face clouded over. "On the other hand, we   
may have already affected the course of Hirogen history, albeit   
unintentionally."  
"What do you mean?" Janeway asked.  
Chakotay said slowly, as if he himself did not care for the direction his   
thoughts were taking him. "This kidnapping is really the second attempt on Nan's   
life, don't you see? When we first encountered the Batina, it was under attack.   
What if the object of that attack was Nan, not the Matriarch herself?"  
"The Caephidians gave us the impression that what Nareb hoped to gain was to   
become the Consort," Janeway said.  
"And in the process he would have killed any other offspring the Matriarch   
already had, so there would be no question of his own progeny ruling after him,"   
Chakotay responded.  
"If she already had daughters, I could understand that," Janeway said. "But Nan   
is male."  
"A male child who might grow up to take revenge against his father's murderer,"   
Chakotay pointed out.  
"So you're saying that because we intervened and prevented the boy from being   
killed in the first attack, that *we* caused Hirogen society to turn out this   
way?" She turned away. "It doesn't make sense."  
Chakotay smiled tightly. "Braxton's law: A causes B, and B causes C. C in turn   
causes A to occur."  
"So we're basically damned if we do and damned if we don't," the captain said   
with a sigh. "So much for upholding the Temporal Prime Directive. How do we know   
if we're obeying it or breaking it?"  
Tuvok decided this had gone on long enough. "Captain, this type of reasoning is   
illogical. There is no way of knowing the might-have-beens, no way of gauging if   
our past or future actions ultimately bring about the demise of the Hirogen   
culture." He paused for a moment to allow his words to sink in. "Nor is it   
advisable to attempt to take matters into our own hands, and force the   
development of another society into a path which we deem to be more acceptable.   
It is not 'morality' to inflict one's own morals upon another culture." He did   
not add that this was the reasoning behind the development of the Prime   
Directive in the first place.  
Janeway gave a quick shake of her head. "You're right, Tuvok. We'll get nowhere   
if we allow ourselves to get lost in endless possibilities. All I can do is   
decide the case on its own merits." Her mouth twisted. "This is a young child   
we're talking about--no matter what he may or may not become in the future." She   
nodded a dismissal. "Thank you, gentlemen. I'll let you know what I've decided   
shortly."  
***  
The Matriarch's voice was deadly quiet, yet carried a note of warning. "Tell me   
again, Rakila, from the beginning, what transpired. Beginning with last night   
until Nan was discovered missing."  
The frightened nursemaid wrung her hands together in a gesture of appeal. "I   
have told you, Matriarch, everything I can remember. As I did the first time you   
questioned me."  
"I wish to hear it again," Tirgana said with a calm she did not feel. "Perhaps   
there is some detail you overlooked that you may remember now. When did you last   
see Nan?"  
"Last night. After the feast, Majalay and I brought him back to his bedchamber   
and put him to sleep. The Voyager Physician examined him, said he was all right,   
and then she left. Majalay tidied up the schoolroom while I stayed with Nan, and   
then when we saw he was sleeping peacefully the two of us went to our own   
quarters." Rakila added, "That is the last I saw of him. Nan usually does not   
rise until well after sunrise--there was no need for me to go into his   
bedchamber until it was time for him to wake."  
The Matriarch tapped the base of her golden staff against the leg of her throne   
and considered the woman standing before her. "You didn't see him since the   
night?"  
"No, Matriarch," Rakila said earnestly.  
"And what about Majalay?"  
"I parted from her late last night and have not seen her this morning,   
Matriarch. But it was my turn to care for Nan this morning--this is Majalay's   
free day."  
The Matriarch leaned forward. "Free day or not, Majalay is nowhere to be found   
within the Palace or the grounds." She fell silent for a moment. "Both of you   
accompanied him to his chamber?"  
"I have said so, Matriarch."  
Tirgana glanced at the other courtiers in the room. "Nepay says that when she   
came in to check on Nan, having heard he was taken ill, you were not there. Only   
Majalay and the Voyager Physician were present."  
"Of course I was there!" Rakila protested. "Nepay must be mistaken--oh, unless   
she came in while I had gone to tidy up the schoolroom, and therefore missed   
seeing her--"  
"But you just said that Majalay tidied up the schoolroom!" the Matriarch   
exclaimed. "Now you claim that it was you, and that is why a reliable witness   
disputes your presence?"  
Rakila flushed a deep crimson. "Er, I was mistaken, of course. Majalay   
straightened up the bedchamber while *I* had gone to--"  
"Enough of these lies! I have already heard from the guards that you were   
nowhere to be found for the remainder of the evening, that you were nowhere near   
the Royal Apartments last night, and that it was not until this morning that you   
reappeared!"  
"Matriarch, I swear--"  
Tirgana rose from her throne, trembling with anger. "I have reason to believe   
that you know more than you are willing to reveal about my son's disappearance!"  
"Matriarch, I beg of you," Rakila pleaded. "All my years of faithful service to   
you--"  
"I will have the truth! Guards!"  
At the Matriarch's command, two heavily armed guards strode forward and seized   
the unfortunate nursemaid, pulling her arms back roughly. As they laid hands on   
her Rakila shrieked, "No! I confess! Nan is--"  
"Where is my child?" demanded the Matriarch, advancing on her.  
"He is safe, I swear it," babbled Rakila in a frenzy of fear. "I would not be a   
party to anything that would harm a single scale on his head! I love your child   
as if he were my own!"  
The Matriarch strode forward until her face was only inches away from Rakila's.   
"Where is he? Who took him? Majalay is involved as well, isn't she?"  
Rakila burst into tears. "Yes," she sobbed noisily. "It was all Majalay's doing.   
She planned this, she carried it out. Last night she placed a drug in his food   
that would cause him to sleep, so he would not waken and cry out while he was   
being taken off-world."  
"A drug?" The Matriarch's mind flashed back to what had happened at the feast,   
at Nan's mysterious 'attack.' "Is that what caused his illness? What Voyager's   
Physician thought was an allergic reaction?"  
"We must have given him too much, but it was never our intention to harm him!   
And Majalay is there to care for him now, so he won't be in any distress--"  
"Who is it? Who is behind this plot?" the Matriarch said angrily.  
A sudden silence fell. Very faintly, Rakila mumbled, "Nareb."  
The Matriarch felt her scales rise and her blood run cold. "That murderous b'zoa   
has my child!" She drew her arm back and slapped Rakila across the face as hard   
as she could.  
Rakila screamed. "Matriarch, I beg of you--" She twisted desperately in the   
grasp of the guards.  
It was with difficulty that the Matriarch refrained from slapping her again. But   
such a display would not avail at the moment. She turned to the Minister of the   
Interior. "Call out the Officers of the Hunt. I want a flotilla of ships   
dispatched immediately to track Nareb and hunt him down. And this time I will   
brook no delays! No excuses! I will have results!" The woman nodded and left.  
Tirgana then turned her attention back to the traitor standing before her, the   
creature who was responsible for putting her child in harm's way, who was now   
writhing on the floor and sobbing for mercy. Following her gaze, another   
Minister said, "What about this one, Matriarch? What do you want done with her?"  
"Take her to the dungeons," the Matriarch said coldly. "Wring her dry for every   
detail of information you can possibly get about where Nareb is headed."  
"And then?"  
'Mercy, Rakila begged for, presuming on her years of service to me and mine,'   
Tirgana thought. 'All right, I will show her mercy by not having her killed   
right here and now.' "Leave her there. I don't care if she rots there forever."  
***  
The doors to the Ready Room opened, and the captain stepped briskly onto the   
bridge. "Mr. Kim, send a message to the Matriarch, telling her that we will be   
joining the flotilla to track down Nareb's ship and retrieve her son. Mr. Paris,   
stand by to set a course, based on the coordinates the Caephidians will be   
sending us."  
She sat down in her chair, and only then met her first officer's eyes.  
"I see you've made your decision, Captain," he said quietly.  
"My conscience won't permit me to do otherwise," she said. "And Tuvok is   
right--to the best of my ability, I have to uphold the Temporal Prime   
Directive."  
"It's your decision," he answered. His gaze softened. "I can't say that I envy   
you."  
She said with forced levity, "I always said that time travel gives me a   
headache."  
He turned back to his console. "Too bad we're on the bridge right now," he   
murmured, his tone matching hers. "I know a very good time-honored method for   
getting rid of headaches."  
"I'm sure you do," she said, checking the readouts in front of her.  
"I've laid in the new course, Captain," Paris said. "Heading 347 mark 06."  
"Warp 6, Mr. Paris," Janeway said. She leaned forward. "We've got a rendezvous   
that we can't miss."  
ACT 5  
The captain was still on the bridge, though Alpha shift had ended more than two   
hours ago. Beside her, Chakotay made no comment, understanding her need to be on   
the spot while the hunt for the Palla, Nareb's vessel, continued. He noted the   
grim determination in her face, the way she barely took her eyes off the main   
viewscreen.  
The area of space they were passing through *was* very interesting, Chakotay had   
to admit. Astrometrics described it as a stellar nursery--a region where new   
stars were being born. He had personally never seen anything like it before,   
though his career had never emphasized the sciences the way Janeway's had. Even   
Tom Paris had remarked early on in the hunt--it had been more than six hours   
since they joined the Caephidian flotilla, Chakotay realized in surprise--about   
having once come across a similar phenomenon, a subspace eddy at the confluence   
of space and subspace. Those churning energies Paris had encountered had wreaked   
havoc whenever they'd appeared in normal space; he supposed they were lucky   
these vortexes did not seem to have the same destructive effect.  
"Message from the lead Caephidian ship, Captain," Kim said. He was another one   
who should have gone off duty already. Chakotay considered using his authority   
as first officer, but reluctantly decided against it. Even though the full   
significance of Voyager's current mission was not widely known, the crew,   
especially the senior staff, were aware of the ship's displacement; they were   
keenly aware as well that every move they made could have rippling effects   
through time.  
"Go ahead," the captain said.  
The features of Evasek, the commander loyal to the Matriarch, appeared. "Nareb's   
ship has been detected, Captain, in orbit around a small moon. I'm transferring   
the coordinates to you now."  
"How do you want to proceed?" Janeway asked.  
"Two of my ships are going to attempt a flanking operation, while the other   
three prepare for a frontal assault."  
This was a Caephidian operation, Chakotay thought once again. It was obvious   
that Janeway wasn't entirely happy with the battle plan, but equally obvious she   
was not going to voice any objection unless it concerned something major.  
"Understood," she said evenly. "What do you want Voyager to do?"  
"It is my hope that once he sees himself surrounded, Nareb will realize he has   
nothing further to gain. If he once wished to use the Matriarch's son as a   
bargaining chip, he will not cause any harm to the boy." Evasek paused. "But it   
may very well be that Nareb will no longer consider that he has anything left to   
lose. You are strangers to him; he is not conversant with the strengths and   
weaknesses of your vessel. You may be able to succeed where we fail."  
Janeway nodded, understanding what Evasek had not put into words. "We'll do our   
best," she said. "Voyager out."  
The system was a sparse one, with only four planets altogether. Two of them were   
gas giants, while a third, the one closest to the sun, was an airless rock. But   
the remaining planet had a number of class M moons, and it was there that Nareb   
had chosen to make his stand.  
"Shields up," Janeway said crisply.  
Tuvok confirmed the order and added, "Weapons systems fully charged, Captain."  
"Janeway to Engineering."  
"Torres here." The chief engineer sounded distracted; every available crewman   
had been working round the clock trying to decipher what had gone wrong with the   
slipstream, and more importantly, how to reverse the temporal displacement.  
"Prepare to bring the Zornon shielding on-line, Lieutenant."  
The Zornon technology, in addition to giving them a little extra protection from   
the buffeting of the unstable energy streams in this region, could also act as a   
temporary cloaking device. The few seconds of invisibility it would give Voyager   
would be just enough to slip under the sensor net of the Palla.  
"Aye, Captain," Torres responded.  
Janeway stood. "Mr. Paris, standby. Let's see if things go according to Evasek's   
plan," she said. "Otherwise, we'll go in and--"  
"Captain! The Palla is firing on the lead ship of the flotilla!" said Kim.  
"Damn," Janeway said. "Nareb is determined to make this harder than it has to   
be!"  
"Can't really blame him, though, can you?" Chakotay said grimly. "He knows the   
game's over. And if he can't win, he's going to bring as many of his attackers   
down with him as possible." He exchanged glances with the captain; he knew her   
primary concern was for Nareb's hostage.  
The captain came to a decision. "All right, we're going in. Now. Before anything   
drastic happens."  
Paris' hands were flying over his controls, preparing to execute the maneuver.  
"The Palla is targeting Evasek's ship again," Tuvok said. "The flotilla is   
returning fire."  
"Open a channel to Evasek," Janeway said. Onscreen, they watched as one of the   
flotilla ships flared and then was replaced by floating debris. From the looks   
of things, the Palla was taking its share of hits, and sustaining damage, as   
well.  
"No response," Kim said. "Interference from the plasma discharges is playing   
havoc with communications."  
"It's possible that Nareb couldn't surrender even if he wanted to," Chakotay   
said in alarm.  
Janeway stiffened. "Tom..."  
"We should be within range in another twenty seconds," Paris said.  
"Harry, stand by to beam--" the rest of the captain's words were lost as a   
brilliant explosion lit up the screen.  
"What was that?" demanded Chakotay.  
Tuvok's voice sounded unnaturally loud in the silence that followed. "That," he   
said, "was the Palla. It's been completely destroyed."  
***  
The captain recovered before the rest of the bridge crew. "Mr. Tuvok," she said,   
"scan the vicinity and see if you detect any life signs."  
Several long moments passed. "I am not reading any signs of survivors within the   
debris field, Captain," the Vulcan replied.  
Janeway joined him at the tactical station. "Nothing?" she persisted. "No escape   
pods?"  
"Radiation levels, and interference from the plasma discharges are making it   
difficult to determine."  
The stubborn look in her eyes brooked no argument; Janeway had never been one to   
accept defeat easily. "Scan the nearest moon."  
Tuvok raised a brow but did not argue. With the exception of the captain and   
first officer, no one knew better than he the enormity of what had just   
occurred. If Nan died as a child, who knew what kind of reality Voyager would   
encounter, even assuming they would be able to return to their own time.  
"If they did manage to release an escape pod, what would be the most likely   
trajectory?" the captain asked.  
"That would lead to the Northern hemisphere, Captain," Kim answered, giving up   
on trying to raise Evasek's vessel or any of the other surviving Caephidian   
ships. He joined in the sensor sweep of the moon instead. He stared at his   
readout. "I could be wrong, but I think I'm picking up signs of a metal   
shell...duranium alloy."  
"Definitely refined metal," confirmed Tuvok a minute later. "It may very well be   
a pod. Faint residuals of a trail can be detected leading to it."  
Janeway didn't relax visibly. Not yet. "Mr. Tuvok, take a security detail down   
there."  
***  
The landing party materialized onto roughly flat terrain, pocked with caves and   
sinkholes. The ground was barren and stony, with only a thin surface coating of   
soil. In the distance, they could see the foothills of a mountain range.  
Tuvok cocked his head. "The escape pod is roughly a kilometer in that   
direction."  
"Looks like they crash-landed in the hills," Ayala said, checking his tricorder.   
"They'd have done better to aim for the plains."  
"It may very well be they had no choice in the matter," Tuvok answered. He set   
off in the lead, with the rest of the team following closely behind, phasers out   
and alert for trouble.  
As they got closer, the shape of the escape pod became visible. Painted the same   
dun color as the surrounding rocks, it had been difficult to discern from a   
distance. Some wreckage was strewn around the base of a cliff, but the main part   
of the pod itself appeared to be mostly intact.  
"I'm picking up two life signs, one very weak," Trish Gallagher said. Her hand   
went to her medikit.  
"I will go in first," Tuvok said, "Ayala, Harper, cover me."  
Tuvok ducked his head to enter the pod. Although the exterior hadn't been too   
badly torn up, inside the damage was much more apparent. Shredded metal and   
wires were everywhere. Coolant seeped from smashed wall panels, pooling on the   
floor.  
A soft moan, followed by a whimper, attracted his attention. Pushing aside the   
remnants of a bulkhead, he saw them. A woman, unconscious, was lying in an   
unnatural position on the floor. Huddled in a miserable heap next to her was a   
small boy. Tears glistened wetly on his face, which was red and blotchy from   
crying, except for the large prominent birthmark on his forehead.  
Tuvok got down on his knees and crawled over to the boy. "Do not be afraid, Nan,   
I will take you back to your mother."  
Nan looked at him for a moment, and then held up his arms. Tuvok lifted the   
child and carried him outside.  
***  
The adrenaline rush of the chase was over, but Tom was reluctant to relinquish   
the helm to Lora Jenkins, who was prowling around the rear bridge stations   
waiting to relieve him.  
Tom wasn't at all tired. He felt a little like he'd run a sprint when he'd been   
training for a marathon. There had been plenty to keep his heart racing. The   
blast of the Palla had destroyed the two ships from Evasek's flotilla that had   
tried the flanking maneuver and damaged the rest of the Caephidian warrior's   
small fleet as well. The other ships were limping home behind Voyager at a   
modest warp while their crews worked on repairing the damage.  
Close brushes with death always seemed to invigorate Tom. It had happened often   
enough in the past eight years that he'd learned to just ride along with   
it--almost like surfing the slipstream, until his mind and body finally gave up   
and told him to get some rest.  
Neither were sending him that message now, although he might have gone off duty   
if his family would be there waiting for him. B'Elanna was hard at work in   
engineering, trying to figure out a way to travel forward to their own time   
again. She probably wouldn't be home for hours. Miral always stayed in sickbay   
during emergencies, since it was deemed the safest part of the ship. When he'd   
called the Doctor about picking her up, though, the EMH told him she had just   
begun her nap. Miral would be as cranky as ... well, she'd be really cranky if   
he picked her up now. Waiting an hour or so for her to get in a decent nap would   
be better for all of them, in the long run. So he'd stayed on duty.  
At one point during the wild ride after the Palla, some brief perception brushed   
into his consciousness, only to be placed into his "think about this later, when   
there's no emergency" memory file. Too bad he couldn't remember exactly where   
that memory was right now, but it tickled the back of his brain.  
Then, when his fingers flicked over his console to change Voyager's heading   
slightly to avoid one of the nascent singularities that was in their path, Tom   
remembered. During the chase, he'd gotten close enough to one of those little   
anomalies to have to do the same thing, compensating for the gravitational   
influence of one of the baby stars. In essence, he'd controlled a skid in space   
that could have thrown them way off course. He'd tried something like it once   
before, but with less success. That was the time the shuttle he was flying with   
Tuvok and the Doctor fell into the gravity well of a subspace pocket. And it was   
also a little like the time years before when he'd "surfed" over the gravity   
wake formed by a gravitational eddy in an area of space where they erupted like   
the plains of the American mid-continent spawned tornadoes centuries ago. . .  
Wait a minute. Those gravitational anomalies had also sucked him into subspace.   
He'd tried but couldn't get out of the path . . . and if those eddies had been   
powerful enough to destroy an alien space station and strong enough to drag his   
shuttle into subspace, why couldn't the gravitational influence of one of these   
little microsingularities disrupt their path in the slipstream? They'd had to   
alter their course in normal space so their warp bubble wouldn't collapse;   
couldn't the same phenomenon cause Voyager to slip off the slipstream wave, just   
a little? It wouldn't take much of a slip to cause a big problem. They'd learned   
that long ago, from the simulations they'd run before they'd attempted to use   
the slipstream drive the first time. They'd found that the slightest course   
deviation in slipstream could be disastrous. That's why, even after all their   
experience with the new, improved version, they weren't taking any chances with   
traveling more than two minutes in the slipstream. The Zornon Cloak might not be   
able to compensate for it.  
That was it. It had to be.  
"Tom, is there a problem? What's our status?"  
"Huh?" Tom hadn't even realized he'd spoken his last thought aloud until the   
captain's question alerted him. He turned his head to look back towards her.  
"I'm sorry, Captain; but I think I just figured out why we left the slipstream   
too soon. If I'm right, I need to let B'Elanna and Joe know immediately. Request   
permission to go to engineering."  
"Ensign Jenkins, take the helm," Janeway ordered, as Tom fairly leaped to his   
feet. "And Tom--I hope you're right."  
***  
"Okay. So if the wave collapsed, why didn't Voyager fall apart, the way the   
simulations said she would three years ago? Instead we went back four centuries   
in time." A weary B'Elanna folded her hands over her chest, frustrated that the   
math wasn't working out the way she expected.  
"I already told you! I *don't* know why we went back in time! But there must be   
an explanation. It happened, so it must be possible!" Tom cried out, almost as   
frustrated and tired. "You have to agree that bumping into a microsingularity   
explains our going off course."  
"Bumping us off course does make sense, of course," Joe said, trying to placate   
both his superior officer and her husband. "But traveling through time--that's   
really hard to explain."  
Harry Kim mused, "I don't think it's a coincidence there are so many   
microsingularities around here. And just because we haven't seen any actual   
subspace eddies or storms in the area, it doesn't mean they don't occur." He   
peered at the screen displaying the astrometrics readouts once again.  
Sam moved closer to take a look for herself. "But if we traveled in time,   
shouldn't we find evidence of chroniton particles somewhere?" she asked.  
There was no reply to her query. At that moment, Neelix entered engineering,   
pushing a large cart. "Well, well, well," he said cheerily. "I knew I'd find you   
here, Sarexa, and I had a hunch you'd be surrounded by engineers." He beamed at   
the group crowded inside B'Elanna's "office" area, who included Harry Kim,   
Samantha Wildman, Noah Lessing, Marla Gilmore, and seven other engineers. The   
only ones missing where those on duty at the moment in the main part of   
engineering or asleep because they were assigned to gamma shift. "Since most of   
you missed dinner, I thought I'd bring you a little snack. A little 'pick-me-up'   
for your brainstorming session."  
Welcoming the distraction of food, the members of the session crowded around   
Neelix's cart. "Easy, there's plenty for everyone," Neelix said, trying and   
failing to conceal his delight at his reception. He glanced around. "Is the   
captain here? I've brought plenty of coffee --including an entire pot of her   
favorite blend."  
"Not yet, but give her time," Tom said, grabbing for a sandwich. "She's bound to   
notice we're all missing, and I'll bet she can smell that coffee on the bridge."   
He took a large mouthful. "Umm. This is a pretty good sandwich. What's in it?"  
"Faeranek. It's a Caephidian delicacy. And these pockets are Blinerovi. I   
understand the Caephidians call them 'brain food.'" Marla hesitated in the act   
of reaching for one, clearly wondering if the Caephidians meant the phrase   
literally. Harry chuckled but Neelix took no notice. "Did everyone get food?   
Lieutenant Carey? Maybe it can help you solve the problem at hand."  
"I think it'll take more than a snack, Neelix, but thanks for thinking of this,"   
Joe said as he picked up a small pocket of dough and cautiously took a bite.   
"Mmm. Not bad at all."  
As Neelix moved through the group, distributing sandwiches, treats and coffee,   
Naomi came into engineering. "Hi, Mom."  
"Hi, Honey," Sam replied, smiling affectionately at her daughter's greeting.  
"Going to be another long night?" Naomi grabbed one of the dough pockets as   
Neelix passed by her.  
"I'm afraid so," her mother said. "Tom has a great explanation for *what*   
happened, but we haven't been able to figure out why yet so we can take   
advantage of it."  
Tom brushed some crumbs off the front of his uniform. "Unfortunately, I don't   
think I can stick around to work on it any more. The Chief Engineer has to stay,   
but it's way past time to pick up Miral. The Doc volunteered to keep her again,   
and if I don't get to Sickbay soon, he'll be whining about my 'irresponsible   
fatherhood' for the next week."  
"You don't have to worry about her," Naomi said. "Miral had a really long nap,   
and Icheb and I picked her up for you about half an hour ago. I was supposed to   
tell you that as soon as I came in! Sorry! When I left the two of them, 'Uncle   
Icheb' was feeding Miral her dinner."  
"Ah, well, then, I'm *really* going to be needed in a few minutes. It's usually   
diaper-changing time right after dinner," Tom said, leaning down to buss his   
wife on the cheek.  
"I know," Naomi confided to her mother with a mischievous grin. "That's why I   
left her with Icheb! It's about time he learned how to do it himself instead of   
letting me do it all the time!"  
"Sorry to see you leave, Tom," Neelix remarked. "I was hoping we could all work   
on the slipstream problem, the way we did for the Warp Ten Project."  
B'Elanna patted his shoulder sympathetically. "If we come up with any ideas,   
we'll call you on the comm, Flyboy."  
"Thanks," Tom said, reluctant to leave, though he knew he should. He began   
edging his way toward the door.  
"What was the 'Warp Ten Project'?" Noah asked, exchanging puzzled glances with   
Marla.  
Tom stopped but didn't turn around. "Ah, the Warp Ten Project," he sighed.   
"Those were the days." Behind him he heard someone say softly, "Lizard Boy."  
"I heard that, Mulcahey!" the pilot said, turning towards the young man who   
shrugged, the picture of innocence. Tom winced. There was a lot about that time   
he'd prefer not to dwell on, especially his 'abduction' of the captain, the   
transformation they'd both undergone--and their resulting offspring. Even though   
he'd had no say in the decision, ever since Miral's birth he'd found it   
particularly difficult to think about leaving his first progeny behind in that   
swamp. How was he ever going to explain that one to her?  
"We can tell you all about that later," Neelix interjected. "The important thing   
is that we made a real breakthrough from someone saying something that everyone   
else knew but had taken for granted."  
"Neelix was our catalyst," Harry agreed. He gave Marla a sympathetic smile and   
mouthed, "I'll tell you later."  
"So, what's the obvious thing we're missing now?" Marla asked.  
"If we knew that, we'd already have solved the puzzle," Sue Nicoletti answered.  
"Let's go back to basics," Neelix said. "The slipstream is a form of folded   
space technology, right? And all the folded space technologies alter space   
and/or time . . ."  
Mulcahey rolled his eyes. "That's the basics, all right. Now that we've got   
*that* established . . ."  
"Wait a minute . . . wait just a minute . . . Neelix, I think you've done it   
again!" Tom said, suddenly excited.  
"I have?"  
"Enlighten us, Tom," B'Elanna stared at her husband in disbelief, experiencing a   
feeling of *déjà vu.* This was exactly what had happened during the Warp Ten   
Project.  
Tom came back to the group and sat down once more. "Let's look at folded space   
technologies," he replied. "They do alter space . . . and time! We always forget   
that, because the reason we use them is to jump ahead in space faster than the   
Einsteinian physics of normal space permit us to. But there is definitely a   
time-altering effect we take advantage of, in all of them."  
Harry immediately latched onto Tom's train of thought. "That's right! What is a   
transwarp tunnel, anyway, but a 'hole' we fall through from one part of space to   
another. What really happens is that normal time has very little meaning inside   
the conduit."  
"And all a warp drive does is form a bubble inside which space--and time--are   
distorted so a ship can travel faster than light. That's basic warp drive   
theory!" Naomi added, her face glowing with excitement.  
Joe nodded, but then immediately frowned. "That ship of Steth's that folded   
space. It doesn't quite fit your theory, Tom," he pointed out.  
Tom winced again. That body-stealing alien Steth--or whatever his/her real name   
was. That was another subject he disliked thinking about lately.  
"We don't *know* it fits the theory, but we don't really understand how it works   
very well," B'Elanna said; she was also more than a little reluctant to discuss   
Steth. "What it does is put 'pleats' into a given area of space. The ship can   
fly to point A, B and C quickly because they are suddenly close to one another,   
along the folds of the pleats."  
"Right," Tom added. "The propulsion drive of that ship couldn't even make full   
impulse, but the ship was still fast. It didn't need to fly far--only a short   
distance along a 'pleat,' as you described them. For all we know, the pleats are   
a time distortion, not of space--we just see it that way because of the end   
result."  
"So you're saying that the slipstream wave might be a wave of time?" Marla   
asked.  
"It could be," Tom said. "We've seen similar phenomena. Remember when we were   
stuck in orbit over the planet with the accelerated time rate? We watched whole   
civilizations rise and fall in what was only a few hours to us. Or that time   
Tuvok, the Doc and I got stuck in the subspace pocket? We thought we were there   
for months, but to everyone on Voyager, we were only missing for a day or so."  
Marla and Noah exchanged looks once more. Sue noticed and said, "I think that   
might have happened before Marla and Noah came on board, Tom. Even so, both of   
those simply changed our perception of the rate of time. But his time we went   
backwards, even though there's no sign of any chronitons around here."  
"Are we sure there's no sign of any chronitons?" B'Elanna suddenly asked   
excitedly. "What about these malleotrons we keep detecting?"  
"Malleotrons are particles associated with certain interstellar phenomena,   
including singularities and microsingularities . . ." Naomi recited dutifully,   
in her best Academy sing-song.  
"Very good. And what are the properties of said particles, Cadet Wildman?" asked   
Harry. He put down his coffee cup and called up a display of a starship in   
slipstream. Onscreen, the exterior of the ship glowed.  
Naomi bit her lip in concentration. "Well, I . . . uh, they have variable   
properties, according to the energy levels they've been subject to, temperature,   
proximity to a microsingularity, etc. They're always in a state of flux. That's   
why Captain Archer's crew called them malleotrons when they first discovered   
them."  
"Exactly, Cadet! They are considered to be one particle, but they don't always   
look the same. And we've been detecting them sloughing off the ship every time   
we came out of the slipstream drive . . ."  
"And never once considered whether they were important to the process," B'Elanna   
finished for Tom. "In fact, I'm willing to bet they are the end result of the   
process! If we measure the quantity of malleotrons we've found coming off our   
ship and compare them to the levels of chronitons we'd expect to find after a   
time travel trip equivalent to our slipstream journey, I wonder what we'd find?"  
"I believe you would find a relationship, although the Borg did not pursue the   
technology, favoring the use of transwarp conduits instead," Sarexa observed.   
She had been largely silent up till now. "But that doesn't explain why we went   
backwards in time on this occasion when we never had such a problem before."  
"Wave action, Sarexa, and turbulence. What if the 'tunnel' we see is like the   
pipeline of a wave? We perch ourselves on the crest in just the right way, we   
get pulled along in the direction of the wave and slide up onto the beach,   
pretty as you please. If we don't catch it right, we get caught in the undertow   
and pulled inside. We wipe out, popping out of the wave at a wild angle and . .   
." Tom halted the flow of his words as a dozen engineers and science types gaped   
open mouthed at him. "Go look up wave action and surfing.  
Trust me, the physics are fascinating and apply to a lot more than just salt   
water."  
"If you'd lose the twentieth-century surfer slang and talk Standard, maybe   
they'd know what you were talking about, Tom." B'Elanna briskly added, "But   
'looking it up' is exactly what we need to do." She got to her feet and began   
briskly snapping out orders. "We're going to split up into teams. Sarexa, Marla,   
Noah: compare the levels of chronitons in known time travel situations with the   
volume of malleotrons we've measured coming out of our slipstream jumps.   
Mulcahey, Nicoletti, Wildman, Cadet Wildman: check the records for descriptions   
of the effect different kinds of energy have on the flux rates of malleotrons.   
See if you can find anything we can use. Nozawa, Tabor, Powell, McMinn: look at   
our energy consumption levels for each jump--especially the ones that were   
longer or shorter than two minutes."  
"B'Elanna, Joe and I will look at the data from the time we encountered Captain   
Braxton's time ship," Harry offered. "His ship was able to jump into various   
time periods. I don't think we ever bothered to check if our sensors detected   
malleotrons as well as chronitons coming off his ship."  
"Good idea, Harry. And look into those examples Tom just gave about time varying   
in rate with . . ."  
The door to engineering opened. Icheb called out, "Tom? B'Elanna?" as he entered   
engineering, gingerly carrying Miral and her diaper bag. Miral was wearing only   
a T-shirt and a diaper, and the latter was inexpertly fastened around her waist,   
to say the least. It looked as though it was going to fall off any second.  
"Icheb! I'm sorry! I knew you'd be needing help right about now, but I got all   
caught up . . . . Come here, baby," Tom exclaimed to his daughter, who was   
calling out "Dada!" as she scrambled into his arms.  
A visibly relieved Icheb handed over the diaper bag. "I cleaned her up, but was   
uncertain as to the proper way to fasten the new diaper." Naomi giggled.  
"Maybe we should add diaper-changing to your curriculum, Icheb," Tom said,   
already rectifying the matter. "There you are, honey," he said to his daughter.   
He hoisted her to his shoulder and turned back to his adoptive brother. "In the   
meantime, maybe you can help with a less mystifying problem--the slipstream."  
B'Elanna gave Tom a piercing look and said, "We do need your help, Icheb, to   
evaluate all the data and to finish up the equations so we can use them to get   
us back 'on time.' " She smiled. "The lessons in diaper changing can wait till   
later."  
***  
"Cappa!" Miral announced as Captain Janeway walked into engineering.  
"What are you still doing awake, little Miss Paris? It's very late!" admonished   
Janeway with a wagging finger that Miral immediately tried to grab. The baby was   
laughing, but her chubby hand ended up rubbing at her eye after it failed to   
make contact with the captain's finger.  
"I was just taking her home, Captain. She's ready for bed, and to tell you the   
truth, so am I," Tom confided. Turning to his wife, he added, "Don't be too long   
tonight."  
"As soon as I give my report to the captain, I'll be there, too. Good night,   
Miral." B'Elanna kissed her baby and joined her team of engineers, who were   
waving to Miral as her father carried her through the doors of engineering. As   
soon as her family was out of sight, B'Elanna turned to the captain, all   
business once more. "We've got a theory about what happened, Captain, and we've   
formulated a plan to get back to our own century."  
Accepting a cup of coffee from Neelix, Janeway walked to the display where many   
of the engineers and Harry Kim were standing. Quickly, B'Elanna presented what   
they'd discovered to the captain. "Just as Tom suspected, we must have been   
thrown out of slipstream by one of the tiny microsingularities in our path.   
We're lucky we were already about to leave the slipstream when it occurred, or   
Tom might have lost control of the helm."  
"I don't even want to think about what might have happened if he hadn't held us   
on course," Harry said with a grimace.  
"Except it wasn't the right course because of the oscillation of the wave. And,   
thanks to the malleotrons, we not only suffered a time distortion but were   
thrown backwards in time," Joe explained.  
Janeway considered. "Are you trying to tell me slipstream technology is the   
basis of practical time travel?"  
"Maybe that's why Captain Braxton needed to return us to the Delta Quadrant the   
time we went back to 1996 Earth, Captain," Sam said. "We still had things we   
needed to accomplish. It's possible one of those things was inventing the   
technology his ship was based upon . . . "  
Janeway groaned and pressed her hand to her temple. "I'm getting a headache just   
thinking about it."  
"Let's concentrate on the business at hand," B'Elanna said firmly. "Captain, we   
want to show you our plan for getting back home. We'll need to refit the Bussard   
collectors to scoop up malleotrons."  
"The malleotrons are the key?"  
"Yes, Captain. We compared the ratio of chronitons and malleotrons to our jumps   
and found out they're equivalent to each other. Apparently that's what the wave   
is made from. We need to boost the malleotron levels so we can exit the wave at   
exactly the right spot--right temporal spot--sorry! We'll need a  
lot of energy so they can behave like chronitons--or maybe decay into   
chronitons."  
"There are still a lot of unknowns, " Janeway pointed out.  
"There are," B'Elanna admitted. "But we're sure that this will work, Captain."  
The captain put down her coffee cup and said decisively, "Then let's do it. The   
faster we can get out of the past and back to our own time, the better I'm going   
to feel."  
"No more headaches?" Joe murmured. He looked abashed when he realized the   
captain had heard him.  
"Not until the next temporal paradox shows up, anyway, Mr. Carey," Janeway   
admitted with a low chuckle.  
***  
//Captain's log, supplemental. The Matriarch's son is safe and sound and we have   
taken our leave of the Caephidians. They were most generous in offering us   
further assistance, including navigation and star charts. Before it became clear   
that we had traveled into the past, I had admitted that we were not where we   
expected to be. Fortunately, we were able to get away without specifying just   
how 'lost' we were. I am fairly certain that none of our actions affected the   
timestream. Of course, we have no way of knowing for sure until we get back to   
our own time. And that is our next challenge.//  
Janeway glanced around the bridge. "Status, Mr. Kim?"  
"All departments reporting ready, Captain," Harry replied.  
"Very good," Janeway said. She turned toward the engineering station.   
"Lieutenant Torres?"  
B'Elanna studied her controls for a moment. "All set, Captain."  
"Mr. Paris, lay in a course," Janeway said. She stood and walked over to the   
main viewscreen, where the turbulent subspace eddies and plasma streams were   
beckoning.  
"Aye, Captain."  
"Ahead nice and steady, Tom, full impulse."  
"The Bussard collectors are working," Harry reported. "Beginning to accumulate   
malleotron particles."  
"How soon will we reach critical concentration?" Chakotay asked, checking his   
own readouts.  
"At this rate, in another 4.7 minutes," B'Elanna said. She opened a channel to   
Engineering. "Joe, are you keeping an eye on the energy frequencies?"  
"Yes, Lieutenant," came the immediate response. "I'll let you know the instant   
the conditions match."  
"Don't initiate slipstream until I say so," B'Elanna cautioned.  
Onscreen, a large plasma flare lanced out, briefly enveloping the ship in its   
embrace. "Shields are holding, Captain," Tuvok said calmly.  
Janeway tore her eyes away from the dancing arcs of light. "Hull stresses?"  
"Within acceptable limits," Tuvok said.  
"Malleotron concentrations?"  
"Almost there, Captain," B'Elanna said, her voice steady. "The Bussards are   
working at full capacity."  
"Carey to Bridge. The energy frequencies are within 0.02 percent."  
Janeway glanced at her chief engineer, who nodded. "Mr. Paris, bring our speed   
up to warp four. Lieutenant Torres, initiate slipstream."  
"Aye, Captain," came the chorus of voices.  
Janeway sat down in the center seat. The tension in the air was palpable.  
The image on the viewscreen changed. A pulsing white dot formed, grew until it   
had expanded to fill nearly the entire screen. Then it burst apart and, almost   
immediately, the shards came together in a sparkling network that coiled and   
twisted in on itself.  
"The slipstream 'tunnel' has formed," B'Elanna announced, a bit unnecessarily.   
She checked her readings once more. "It appears to be stable."  
"Slipstream velocities confirmed," Tom said. "She's going smoothly."  
"Time?" Chakotay said, his voice not quite as steady as usual.  
"Twenty one seconds so far," Harry said.  
"Still stable," B'Elanna said in a hushed tone. There were no further sounds,   
other than Harry's terse time checks.  
"Past the one minute mark now... 70 seconds... 80...90...100...110...115.."  
"Shut down the drive, and prepare to exit into normal space!" Janeway ordered   
sharply.  
The lacy 'tunnel' on the screen appeared to flatten slightly; then the strands   
parted. The blackness of regular space could be seen in patches, which gradually   
grew bigger. And then the few remaining strands were gone.  
"We've exited into normal space," Harry said. He was silent for a moment,   
studying his panel. "We're still in the Delta Quadrant, Captain."  
Janeway's lips tightened, although she hadn't expected it to be otherwise.   
*Where* was not as important as *when*, however. She stabbed at her comm panel.   
"Bridge to Astrometrics. How far back have we traveled?"  
"Astrometrics here," Megan Delaney replied. "According to the star positions,   
we're once more within our proper time frame."  
An audible sigh of relief swept the bridge, but the captain wasn't ready to   
relax yet. 'Proper time frame' could mean anything from a day to several   
decades. "How close are we?"  
"I can't give you an exact reading yet, Captain, but it looks like we've arrived   
within a few weeks of our last attempt at slipstream."  
Janeway exhaled deeply. That was all she needed to hear.  
***  
Chakotay was lounging on the couch when Janeway came out of the bedroom. She had   
exchanged her uniform for a tunic and leggings in a soft shade of blue and   
looked more relaxed. "Feeling better?" he asked.  
She sighed. "I don't know how I'd feel if I saw the Caephidian--that is,   
Hirogen--homeworld now, knowing I'm responsible for any negative changes." She   
made a face. "That once vibrant planet..."  
Chakotay cocked an eyebrow at her. "Any changes, adverse or not, aren't your   
fault, Kathryn. You were following the dictates of the Temporal Prime Directive.   
And who's to say the homeworld itself would be so badly off? We never did   
encounter any modern-day Hirogen females, you know."  
"I know." She gave him a rueful smile. "Not that I really want to go and find   
out, you understand. There are some things that perhaps we're better off not   
knowing."  
"Exactly," he said. "So, are you feeling better?" he asked again.  
"Now that we're back more or less where we belong?" she said with another smile,   
a genuine one this time. "Most definitely." She sat down next to him and leaned   
her head against his shoulder. "Well, it's not *exactly* where we were   
before--we do have some lost ground to make up."  
He slipped his free arm around her. "Not to mention time," he said, alluding to   
the fact that they hadn't returned precisely to the point at which they had   
left. But considering they had been nearly 400 years in the past, being off by   
three weeks was close enough for him.  
She made a face. "Time travel always did give me a headache, you know that." She   
glanced down at his hand, caressing her side. "I could ask you the same   
question."  
He paused in the act of slipping his hand under her tunic. "Has anything in my   
behavior this evening led you to believe that I've got a headache?"  
"No."  
"Good." He bent his head and kissed her.  
She returned the kiss enthusiastically, but then said, "I meant, are you feeling   
better? You've seemed rather out of sorts lately."  
"This was just a very stressful period, Kathryn, with the slipstream problem and   
not being sure if our actions would affect history," he said evasively, not   
quite meeting her eyes.  
She moved back a little and waited. "Even before we realized we were displaced   
in time--you were worrying about being displaced in other ways," she said at   
last. "Or rather, finding your place."  
He smiled wryly. No, Kathryn was never one for beating around the bush. "That's   
a good way of putting it."  
She shook her head slowly, a little sadly. "And am I right in assuming it has to   
do with a lot more than just wondering about your fate as a Maquis?" When he   
didn't object, she went on, "Is it the 'first officer syndrome'?"  
He was quiet for a moment. "What do you mean by that?"  
"The feeling of carrying heavy responsibility, but without the corresponding   
sense of actually making a difference. Because even though you do your   
damnedest, try to come up with all the pertinent information, all possible   
options, when all is said and done, it's the captain who makes the final   
decision. And the captain who receives the praise or blame."  
"That's not--"  
She caught his gaze in her own. "I can understanding your feeling ineffectual--"   
She stopped and bit her lip. "No, that's not quite what I meant. Because you   
have never been ineffectual--it's not just platitudes when I tell you that I   
need you, that I rely on you, that I don't know how I could have managed to get   
the ship to this point without you." Her voice was low and insistent. "I mean   
it, Chakotay."  
"I know that you do, that it's not just lip service with you." He sighed. "But   
unfortunately, there is a grain of truth in what you said before, about being   
effective. I guess I have been wondering if my contributions are truly   
meaningful, if I was really doing anything worthwhile. Or if you were only   
saying that because of your feelings for me." He gave her a rueful look.   
"Sorry."  
"I understand. I was a first officer once, too, you know." She got up and headed   
over to the replicator. "And the best ones go on sooner or later to their own   
commands. More than any other position, first officer is a transitory posting on   
a starship, an apprenticeship for one's own command. It's very rare to have the   
same command team together for so long, unless of course the ship happens to be   
called the Enterprise." She caught his answering smile. "But from the captain's   
point of view, such an arrangement is desirable, because a good and trusted   
second in command is truly indispensable. And often hard to find." She handed   
him a steaming cup of liquid.  
He took a moment to savor the herbal tea before answering. "I had my own command   
in the Maquis. So yes, I know what you're saying. But I don't know if I have any   
ambitions for my own command in Starfleet anymore. Or if I ever did."  
She settled herself on the couch once more, her feet tucked up under her, a cup   
of her own in her hands. "If you had, you'd never have agreed to serve under   
me?"  
"It's hard to say," he answered thoughtfully. "After all, the circumstances were   
certainly unique--my ship was destroyed and Voyager represented the only way   
home." He put his cup down and reached out to take her hand. "But more   
importantly, I knew if I threw in my lot with you I'd never regret it."  
She looked down at their clasped hands. "Have you? Regretted it, I mean."  
"No, I haven't. And I don't regret throwing my lot in with you another way. I   
meant it when I pledged myself to you."  
"And I to you," she said softly. Almost to herself, she added, "We certainly   
waited long enough."  
"That wasn't entirely my doing, you know," he couldn't help saying with a   
chuckle.  
She chuckled as well, while at the same time looking slightly embarrassed. "I   
know."  
He quickly sobered. "But at the same time, our being involved, well, it's just   
one more complicating factor, one more unknown in what's going to happen next."  
She knew he was still thinking about their eventual return to Earth. "As a very   
wise man once told me," she reminded him, "it's important that we don't get so   
caught up in worrying about the future that we forget to live in the present."  
"Or caught up brooding about the past," he countered.  
"Exactly," she said, acknowledging his thrust. "But one of the few things I am   
sure about is that no matter what the future holds, neither of us is going to   
face it alone."  
"Agreed," he said, pulling her into his arms once more. "And now that's enough   
talk, and worry, for one night," he murmured against her neck.  
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. "See, Commander, I said you always   
make the best suggestions."  
Epilogue  
"The malleotron particles are related to chronitons, then?"  
"Yes, Matriarch," Ristina agreed. "Under certain conditions, malleotrons decay   
into chronitons."  
Tirgana nodded. "Did Captain Janeway show any evidence of realizing this?"  
"No, Matriarch. I do not believe so. I do not know if they even suspected they   
have traveled in time as well as out of their expected flight path. Shall we   
contact them to let them know? They will remain in close enough proximity to the   
communications network for some time yet. They will be surprised to find out   
they are not when they expected to be."  
Tirgana thought about the hesitancy the Captain had started to show at about the   
time they rescued Nan. "Don't bother. I have reason to believe they know exactly   
when they are."  
"But if they did not realize that malleotrons and chronitons are related, how   
could they?" Susera asked.  
The Matriarch answered "The Voyager crew have sophisticated astrological   
observation equipment. They would surely realize that the stars were displaced   
from where they expect them to be. The question is, when were they from? The   
past, or the future?"  
"The future, certainly," Ristina, the science advisor, answered. "It explains   
why they could not communicate with their Federation."  
"Exactly," the Matriarch agreed. "How many years, do you think?"  
"From the quantity of malleotron particles, I can only say not less than two   
hundred nor more than five hundred years, Matriarch. I am sorry I cannot be more   
precise."  
"But they will have information about our future! We should call them back and   
find out if there is anything we should change!" Susera said excitedly.  
"No! Susera, that is exactly why we must NOT contact them again!" the Matriarch   
said immediately. "The timeline may already have been compromised!"  
Susera bowed her head, murmuring her apology, as the Matriarch turned and   
addressed Kerila, the keeper of all official records. "You know what we must   
do."  
"Yes, Matriarch. We must remove all references to Voyager visit, and of their   
part in Nan's rescue from our history. To do otherwise would risk changing   
history as it is supposed to be."  
"Matriarch, forgive me, but how can we manage this?" Susera asked. "Even if we   
remove their names from our official records, so many have met them personally!   
How can we control what may say about them in personal accounts?"  
The Matriarch considered for a moment. "Only a few members of the court actually   
met them, Susera. Many others who knew of them perished during Nan's rescue. So,   
if there is no confirmation from official records, their names will lost to our   
history. People may speak of them, but they will quickly become more like   
figures from fables, rather than real people, to any who do recall the incident.   
And if we make sure that Evasek is given his proper due as Nan's rescuer, even   
those recollections will die."  
Susera may still have had doubts, but she replied, "It will be so, of course."   
She hesitated, then added, "Forgive me if I am speaking presumptuously, but   
Evasek is a noble warrior, Matriarch. He was a loyal mate to Evasena before her   
death, and fathered a fine daughter. He serves you now as War Leader--and would   
undoubtedly make a fine Consort as well."  
"You *are* being presumptuous!" Tirgana glared at her retainers, but not in the   
withering way she had when she was truly upset. "You are all dismissed."  
Susera mumbled her apologies. Ristina and Kerila wisely said nothing as they   
bowed their way out of the Matriarch's presence.  
When they were gone, Tirgana sighed in amused resignation. Matchmakers! She   
would never be rid of them as long as she was without a Royal Consort!  
Her mind went back to the beginning part of the conversation. Susera was loyal   
and knew how to follow orders; Tirgana was sure she would never mention those of   
Voyager ever again. Both Kerila and Ristina could be ruthless in their attention   
to completing tasks. All mention of Voyager and her crew would efficiently and   
completely disappear from Caephidian history. Janeway and her crew would soon   
pass into legend. Indeed, that may be where they belong, the Matriarch mused, as   
she walked into her private rooms, dismissing Nepay, who had been guarding Nan.   
With Rakila's imprisonment and Majalay's death, there was no one else to care   
for the child. She would have to see about getting a replacement. But perhaps   
Nan was already getting to the point where he was too old to require a new   
nursemaid.  
When they were alone, she stood over the bed watching the rise and fall of his   
chest as he slept peacefully.  
The way Nan was lying, his blue birthmark was clearly visible. Soon it would be   
gnarled and twisted into his adult male skin. She remembered the path Tirgan's   
took along the side of his face. How she missed him! He was--had been--a male   
unlike all others.  
She had confidence in Evasek. He would serve her well as War Leader. Perhaps, as   
Susera had said, he could even be a kind and just Consort, but he could never be   
what Tirgan had been to her. None of them realized how important the late   
consort had been to the Matriarch. To all of them. Content always to remain in   
the shadows, as their culture demanded, Tirgan had always been there to guide   
her with his wise, far-seeing counsel. As intelligent and able to see the whole   
picture as he was a brave warrior, Tirgan had been unable to anticipate only one   
thing: the treachery of his most trusted Second.  
She knew she should take another mate. Her eldest hatchling was male, and so was   
the egg that lay waiting in the Ovarium. She needed a female child to take her   
place. But even if she took another mate, who could guarantee that he would   
succeed in producing a female to follow her? She could have a dozen more sons   
and no daughter. And even if she were blessed with a female child, that daughter   
would not be the child of her beloved, wise Tirgan.  
Perhaps it would be better for all if one of Tirgan's sons married the current   
heiress apparent Bragila. Then the legacy she shared with Tirgan might live on.   
Then "Branan" might be the hero to his people his father had been.  
The Matriarch walked to the window to gaze over the sunken garden. The years   
ahead would be lonely ones for her. How much she would love to know what Janeway   
could have told her about the future of her people! It would give her comfort in   
her loneliness to learn her decisions had been the right ones, to hear of the   
glorious future of her people. Tirgana would not ask, however, wise enough to   
realize the truth she would prefer to ignore but could not.  
Sometimes it was better not to know.  
FINIS  
  
Next: Little Feat - short interude...Harry makes an exciting discovery about   
Kal'toh! 


End file.
